Flowers In December
by StrangelySilentSoul
Summary: Peter left with Wendy after feeding a certain villain to the crocodile. But the stubborn pirate had refused defeat and gutted the beast open. Once he learned about his life-long enemy's permanent departure, Hook exploded into a manic rage that terrorized all of Never land. But the captain immediately slips back into old habits after discovering Pan's greatest weakness: his daughter
1. Chapter 1

**Old, Alone, Done For**

It was an icy wasteland.

There was no leader for the lost boys anymore, who now spent their days wandering about in the woods, waiting for a boy who would never return. The Piccianies Indians hadn't been seen since Pan left, and the mermaids had disappeared underneath inky waters to hibernate elsewhere.

The only indication of life in the world was the ship called "The Jolly Roger," that had haunted the place since the beginning of time. And of course, whose leader was none other than the most fearsome sea captain that ever was. The only man that Long John had ever feared, in fact. Yes, tales of his bloodthirsty vengeance and his nightmarish glower still haunted the minds of all like an evil spirit.

But the truth was, this certain pirate was still a mere man. A very distraught one, at that.

He resided within the largest room of his ship, which looked as if a violent tempest had shredded through it the night before. And there had been, but not a literal kind. Almost every surface was littered with empty beer bottles and shards of broken glass. Furniture had been overturned. Books and been hurled out from the shelves. Clothes had been thrown about and shredded to tiny pieces. Walls and floors were scarred with old and new splintery wounds, adding to the quiet, still chaos.

In the midst of it all, the perpetrator rocked in and out of slumber like how the ship sloshed about on top of the frozen waves. Wild, matted curls sat upon the figure's head. He was slumped over the large desk, and he was still dressed in the same clothes from the past three days. His ragged breathing caused his torso to heave up and down, and even while unconscious the captain wore a nasty scowl on his face.

The reigning silence was interrupted by the faint creak of the bedroom's door, followed by an old head that peeped inside. He scanned the ransacked room before opening the door further and allowing his fat form to slip inside. He tip-toed over. For a man so stubby and old, he moved without a sound and was able to dart around broken bottles until he was in front of the desk.

Before Smee could wonder if the captain would get up today or not, a guttural growl stopped the old boatswain right in his tracks.

"Capt'n?"

"You worthless dog. Haven't I told you to never enter my quarters unless summoned?" He spat the slurred words out as if they were poison. The mess of hair shot up, revealing a snarling face with a pair of blood-shot eyes. Smee gulped, but did not flinch or even blink. After all, this had been his everyday greeting.

For the past twenty years.

"Good morning Capt'n. Shall I get you some breakfast?" Despite knowing the answer was no, Smee still listened carefully for his response.

James Hook shut his eyes once more whilst groaning, and the look of bloody murder in his sharp features vanished as suddenly as it came. He brought up his good hand to clutch his forehead that creased between the brows, before speaking up again in a more human voice.

"Smee. Fetch some tea. Now."

"And some toast and jelly, sir?" Hook snapped his head at Smee, his gaze burning a hole into the older man.

"Just shut that flapping mouth of yours and go!" After the poor old man scrambled backwards and sprinted out the room, the sea captain sighed while sitting up straight.

A series of pops crackled down his spine, and he released another groan when soreness exploded all across his right side. He had slept with his leather contraption holding his hook all night long. His skin was splotched purple and red where the straps remained secured. An excruciating migraine pounded at his head, and numbness exploded down his limbs.

There was absolutely nothing that the captain hated more than being conscious while sober. Because being awake meant having to think, and having to think meant having to remember.

Remember him.

 _"Die, dark and sinister man!" The boy had giggled with pure bliss and glee. Twinkling green eyes glowed with immense joy, as if he had received the best Christmas present in the entire world. Hook remembered how the cocky, callous shell of a human had pointed and laughed while he, a living, breathing soul, fell closer and closer into the open, snapping jaws of a crocodile._

 _Although Hook himself was no saint, and his hand was stained with the blood of many, he had never enjoyed killing any of his victims. And he certainly never celebrated their gruesome deaths._

 _"Hook is a codfish!" Pan crowed, unable to contain his excitement over his enemy's demise. The other children joined in, and in unison they added a tune to Peter's very original chant. They were swaying as their arms swung over one another's shoulders._

 _"Hook is a codfish, a codfish, a codfish!" Hook had grit his teeth as the tiny children sang on. He couldn't tell if they were too young and ignorant to know what death meant, or if they simply didn't care._

 _The insolent youth met his gaze, before jutting his sharp chin out further than it already was._

 _"Old, alone, done for." He had uttered the words in a low voice, but the captain had still been able to catch them before plunging into darkness._

A crash of glass jerked Hook out of his daze. After blinking, he realized that an empty bottle had been broken. Or rather, he had smashed it against the table with his hand. Shards dug into his calloused skin, slicing through and causing thick, black blood to ooze out from the open cuts.

But before he could fully process what had happened, Smee returned.

"Capt'n, I have some...Oh my goodness! Capt'n! Yer bleed'n!" The Irishman placed the tray onto the bed before rushing over to Hook's side.

"Oh my my my...Let go of the bottle sir." James complied, and the clucking hen of a man next to him immediately started to pluck out the broken glass embedded in bleeding flesh.

"Smee, it's fine. It's only a-"

"I can't believe it Capt'n. Already the third time this month. Oh my my my..."

A long sigh from the leader. He blocked out the winded voice of his only companion, before pressing his cold hook against his burning forehead.

It was absolutely unjust.

He had simply abandoned Neverland and his crew of loyal followers behind, not caring if they starved or froze to death. He was happy with a woman who overlooked or forgave all of his trespasses, terrible traits, and the lives he had slain. He probably had children of his own. A family that completed him, gave purpose, and that gave him an endless amount of pure, unconditional love.

Pan had grown up, and could never return to Neverland again.

"Fate is cruel, Smee. Fate is cruel." A dry laugh from Hook broke the spell of silence.

Smee had finished wrapping Hook's hand with a cloth before remembering the breakfast tray he had forgotten at the bed. He scuffled his way to serve it again to his beloved captain. Smee returned and began to pour a cup tea, and tried shifting the topic before Hook would begin a melodramatic rant about how unfair _everything_ was.

"Would you like soup for lunch sir? We followed yer orders and looted Black Bird's supplies. Now there's plenty of fruits too."

"I thought I made it clear that I don't have an appetite."

"Capt'n, you best eat something or you'll be sick." Smee pushed the cup in front of him, and Hook froze.

Sick. Sickness. Old age was the worst sickness.

"Smee." The Captain's face remained still.

"Aye sir?"

Pan had grown up. He was aging. He was getting old. Dying.

"I believe I've just had an epiphany." James said with a smile.

"An apostrophe, Capt'n?"

The smile vanished as soon as it came, and Hook shot a look that could cut through steel.

"Smee?"

"Aye sir."

"You are a supreme idiot."

"Aye sir."

A sigh from the ruthless leader, who fixed his focus on something that wasn't there.

"Quite a lot of time has passed, has it not?"

"Yes Capt'n. Tis almost spring, the water is safe enough to sail."

"No, I mean of Pan marrying Wendy."

"Aye?"

"He must be old now."

"I suppose so... Capt'n, with all due respect, I think it's time you forgot the boy."

"Oh no Smee. He is not a boy anymore. He is a man." Hook whipped his head to give his full attention to his loyal boatswain. "And there's nothing more precious to a man than his family."

It was the perfect plan. The best plan. Why hadn't he thought of it before?

"I'm afraid I don't understand sir."

"Fetch that foolish fairy who was infatuated with Pan."

"Tinkerbell? Why sir?"

"We are going to England, that's why. Now go."

"Right now sir?"

"Are you deaf?! Go!" He swung his arm, sending the remaining bottles flying from the desk and shattering to the ground. Jerking back like a cat splashed with water, Mr. Smee scrambled backwards and out of the room as fast as he could, leaving Hook alone once more.

He smiled for the first time in years while leaning back in his chair, and allowed a beautiful vision to enter into his mind.

A vision of Pan sitting alone by a dead fire, surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol. He is wrinkled and white-haired, and shivering quite violently inside a lonely room. There are pictures of his wife and children surrounding him, but that is all his family is now. Pictures. Memories. They have been gone for years now, and they will always be gone, leaving Pan all alone.

Old, alone, and done for.

* * *

 _Dearest Reader,_

 _This story has been inspired by many film adaptations and of course, the original masterpiece itself by J.M Barrie. I will incorporate many similar elements to the other existing movies surrounding this story while trying my very best to give this story my own flare as well. I thought I should mention that some chapters will be longer than others, and this form of writing in the third-person is quite new to me. I apologize ahead of time for any grammatical mistakes and typos, and if updating a chapter takes longer than you would like it to._

 _All support is appreciated and reviews will definitely speed up the progress of the next chapters, and small compliment or two will dramatically increase my low, teenage self-esteem. I thank you for checking out this very lowly story that serves the original tale no justice, and hopefully you will find it tolerable enough to stick with it until the end. I will try my hardest not to disappoint and probably fail, but I shall write this story anyway._

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	2. Chapter 2

**Familiar Strangers**

Inside of the Banning's mansion, there was a glittering party filled with chandeliers and dancing. Clinking of champagne glasses mingled with the melody of soft music. All of the porcelain-doll guests were drowning in a sea of how-are-you's and other petty grown-up talk, completely content in their meaningless banter.

Outside of the Banning's mansion, there was an sinister figure hidden within the shadows of the night. He stood inside the Rose Garden, his icy gaze glaring into the golden room and transfixed on one man. The man was none other than the one who had planned the ball himself, and who was apparently a highly respected and educated banker.

His name was Banning. Peter Banning. Or if he hadn't changed his name many years ago, he would've been called Mr. Pan.

He was no longer the boy with the wild blond hair and cocky grin. His once smooth, glowing countenance had grown gaunt, sharp, and wrinkled. Far more wrinkled than Hook's, in fact. The sparkle that had once possessed his forest eyes was gone, and replaced with a dead one from the all the years of sleepless nights.

The pirate captain mustered up every ounce of self-control he had left to not barge in and gut the man right then and there. After all, Mr. Banning was surrounded by a protective barrier of swishing skirts and sleek tuxedos. Like any other Englishman, he was dressed in a classic tailcoat. He blended in so perfectly with the boring adults around him, since he was one himself.

It was too risky trying to sneak in from one of the windows, because climbing trees were not ideal and he might lose his way inside the excessively large residence. The next best way to enter was simply walking in, as if he was a guest of the party as well. Now if Hook wasn't dressed in clothes that hadn't been outdated centuries ago, and if he did not have a metal weapon for a hand, he could've gone in without a problem. But his current appearance would grab the attention of everyone and immediately raise suspicion and hostility, and so going in was not an option.

Before he could think of fetching some of his men to resort to a more violent method, a door flung open.

Hook jumped a bit before ducking behind the tree. Every part of him grew more tense than it already was, and he instinctively reached for the pistol on his belt when he heard the door shut once more. Then he heard loud rustles of a silk coming his way. They stopped when reaching the exact tree he was hiding behind, and when pirate glanced down, he found the ends of a blue gown peeking out from behind the trunk.

 _'A woman.'_ James relaxed, his fingers sliding away from his firearm. He could never shoot or harm a woman, it'd be bad form.

His ears picked up a strange, stifled sob that came from the other side of the tree, where the lady was at. Deciding to investigate, he leaned over to get a better look.

The lady had placed both hands on the trunk, and had buried her head into the back of them. Loose, fiery hair fell to her elbows veiled her face from his view. As she continued to try and mute her wails, her torso ended up heaving up and down with even more violence. She almost sounded like a whimpering kitten, or like someone who had learned her love had been killed at battle. Or someone who had just learned their mother had died.

He knew that he should take her distraction as an opportunity to slip away unnoticed, but his curiosity got the better of him. So he ended up venturing further out from his hiding place, until half of him was illuminated by the pale moonlight.

"Girl, why are you crying?" The young lady lifted her head upon hearing the baritone voice and let out a soft gasp.

Both of them froze, and for a moment all they could do was stare.

A jolt of recognition traveled through his memories when his eyes locked onto her familiar pair of green ones. Her pronounced features with freckles sprinkled across them stirred up ghostly images of boy who still haunted his nightmares. Her pink lips with a hidden kiss lingering at the bottom corner conjured up memories of another girl. She was the perfect, mirror image of the two people Hook had hated the most, yet he found himself staring at her and unable to look away.

"I...I am crying because I am sad. What a silly question for you to ask me." She was the first to break the silence with her strange voice that wavering between a boy or a girl. It was neither too low and gruff, nor too soft and dainty.

Just like she had read about, he had forget-me-not eyes haunted by melancholy. She could tell he was all wiry muscles underneath his gold-trimmed clothing, and that it would be child's play for him to overpower her. The aloofness lining his sharp features reminded her of a bored aristocrat, but she knew that it was unwise to startle or provoke him. Her gaze flickered down to his right arm, and sure enough there was a hook at the end instead of a hand.

"I apologize for frightening you, and I didn't mean to intrude in your moment of privacy." With his only hand, he pulled out a lacy handkerchief that had been hidden in his sleeve, before offering it to her.

Green eyes met his blue ones once again. But the woman didn't move, half-afraid that the ominous figure before her would disappear like an apparition. Or a dream.

"It's quite alright."

"My dear, you are young and beautiful. Shouldn't you be back at the party, dancing with a handsome boy?" He dropped his hand upon seeing that she made no effort to move.

Her face paled as if she had seen death itself, and she dropped head low. Clara knew that she should have left the strange man when he was giving her the chance to, but she stayed put as her expression darkened even more.

"I'm not going back inside that prison." There was venom behind her calm tone, and the captain noticed. A crease formed between his eyebrows.

"Prison you say?"

"I find parties to be dreadfully suffocating. I can't take all the polite nonsense, or how everyone's always watching my every move. They're waiting to see the exact moment I fail, and as soon as I turn my back they're going to start gossiping about me."

Amusement twinkled in his eyes as he listened to the young lady's troubles.

"Hm. I see people haven't changed much in terms of pettiness." A wry laugh from him. She looked up again, her features gentling.

"I know you." Her words came out louder that she intended. He arched an eyebrow.

"Oh really? And who do you possibly think I am? I believe tonight is our first time meeting." But despite that being so, Hook already knew who she was as well. She studied him once again like how a scientist would with a rare animal: scrutinizing every detail with eyes brimming with wonder.

"You're him." She stated. There wasn't a trace of doubt in her mind that he was the dark figure who had haunted her mother's stories.

"That depends on who 'him' is."

"James." His eyes narrowed.

"I don't think we're on first name basis yet, miss. It would be Captain James to you."

"Or Hook." Her eyes couldn't help but wander back to the silver claw, and she was overcome with the desire to reach out and touch it. And as if he could read her thoughts, James stepped forward while hiding his surrogate limb behind his coat.

"Correct. Since you know my name, why don't you tell me yours?" It wasn't a suggestion. But when he had confirmed her suspicions, a bright grin stretched across her lips and lit up her face.

"My name is Clara Wendy Banning and I find you to be a very fascinating character. Why are you here? How did you get here? And how on earth did you escape from that horrid crocodile? Do you your eyes really flash red when you gut someone? Or do you not know yourself? Oh what a silly question for me to ask. Of course you don't know! There aren't any mirrors for you to look into when you're in battle." She had practically pounced to him, so that the tree didn't block them anymore. James stepped back, only able to blink down at the elated girl who gaped at him as if he was Santa Claus.

"Uh," was all that he managed to utter. It was the first time James Hook had ever been rendered completely speechless. She rambled some more, but he shut out her nonsensical words and could only blink at her while trying to snap out of his daze.

"And it's so terrible how you can be so very evil." She finished with a long sigh, before panting like a puppy to catch her breath. The corset she wore still rearranged all her organs and crushed her lungs.

He regained his composure in her momentary silence, and a neutral smile slipped up his features as he cleared his throat.

"You are Wendy's daughter after all: you share her beauty and her naïve mind. Well my dearest, I'm afraid that the world isn't as simple as you think it to be. It cannot be easily divided into black or white, or good or evil." Upon hearing mention of her mother, her face that had bursting with excitement fell. A look of yearning glossed over her eyes, and her voice quieted into an almost-whisper.

"Really? Am I really like her?"

Hook frowned.

"Where is your mother exactly?"

"Dead."

Something like pity flashed across his eyes, but it vanished as soon as it came.

"Oh my, I'm terribly sorry to hear that. May I ask how she came to pass?"

"She died shortly after my birth."

A click of his tongue.

"Poor dear... Never got a chance to know your mother, which is such a shame. She was a very... Interesting person."

"Perhaps, but I do feel much closer to her than I do with my father." The young lady wondered why she was easily sharing personal things to a dangerous criminal. Hook also wondered the same thing.

"How so? Do you still keep in touch and hold idle conversations with her ghost?" His voice was flat, and Clara mustered up a small smile.

"No. I understand her better, and she left behind her diary. I read it every night, and she wrote her stories inside of them. She also wrote that you were a man of feeling, unlike that flying boy." Her tone turned colder at the last part, and the captain didn't miss the change. His eyebrows rose as his intrigue piqued.

"You don't seem too fond of Pan."

A dry laugh from Ms. Banning, who dropped her narrowed eyes down at the ground.

"Why would I be? He's a selfish, calloused boy who abandoned his family. And he lured other children away from their homes! That's kidnapping!"

Amusement twinkled in his eyes.

"I see. Is that the only reason?"

She paused, and finally broke eye contact to stare at her shoes. They were ridden with holes and caked with dry mud.

"My mother loved him so much. No, she was absolutely obsessed with him." Despite being in her twenties, the young woman reminded Hook of a small child.

"Jealousy?"

"Partially. She loved Peter Pan more than she loved my father."

Hook frowned.

"Surely you must know that they are the same person."

"No. Pan was something unattainable, an idea that had forever alluded her. Peter Banning was a replacement for her ideal love, and the closest replica for her to project her affections to."

There was a moment of hesitation before the pirate responded.

"That's a very…Interesting notion, but both Peters are the same." He was too dismissive of her words. Clara stood straighter, and dared to raise her voice.

"No. Peter Pan and Peter Banning have never existed in the same place or time. My father is a stern, serious banker respected by everyone. He's a very busy man, burdened with the responsibility of raising a daughter alone and tormented with grief. And...And a man who can't bear to look at me." Her voice fell towards the end, and Hook thought she might end up crying again. And he didn't want that, so he continued the conversation.

"You are contradicting yourself, my dear."

She arched an eyebrow.

"How so?"

"You believe that I exist, yet you deny the existence of Peter Pan, who is the most important character in your mother's stories."

"That's not what I meant. Peter Pan did exist, and Peter Banning once was called by that name. But the flying boy was more of an idea. A metaphor. The symbol of youth and the representation of all the joys that comes with it." Her words caused the pirate to tilt his head to the side while blinking. The more he stared and listened to her, the more peculiar and confusing he found her to be.

"If I understand correctly...You are not denying that Peter Banning was once Peter Pan?"

"Correct, captain."

"Then why do you say they are different people?"

"Because Pan exists within fantasy, but Banning exists within reality." A pause. "Pan was the person my father once was, not who he is."

Was. The word resonated across Hook's mind, like echoes inside of a cave. Of course. She was referring to the past and present. Of the things that had been left behind.

"Go back to Neverland. Or travel to another world. You're finally free. I don't know why you're here or how you came, but I'm assuming it has something to with your obsession with revenge. But I'm afraid that whatever your plan of vengeance is, it's not going to work."

Abandoned. Forgotten. Lost.

Hook grit his teeth and clenched his fists. Clara noticed the tightening of his jaw, but didn't move. There was a burning determination inside her eyes, and she mustered up the audacity to step forward so that there was barely any space between the pair.

"My father has changed, but you have not. You're desperately clinging onto the past, or even trying to recreate it. But you should forget about Pan." Ms. Banning didn't realize the gravity of her words and actions. The bold way she had jutted her chin up sent a wave of rage to boil across his veins. Forget? Forget Pan and every sin he had ever committed against him?

Never.

Growling, the captain stepped forward and used his size to block Clara from the only path to the mansion. To safety.

"Insolent girl. Who do you think you are? Telling me what to do and where to go?" He spoke through gritted teeth. He was so close that the young woman could feel his hot breaths upon her cheeks. All of Clara's senses sharpened, and she grew even more aware of how much larger the man was than she. And how easy it would be for him to run her through with his iron claw.

"Stay back. I'll scream and then my father will come for me." Her voice was shaking like the rest of her. She took a step back, and he took one forward.

'Peter will come for me.' James remembered Wendy had said the exact same thing many years ago. But unlike her daughter's eyes, the mother's had unfaltering faith shining inside them.

He stopped, and softened his expression while silently cursing himself for losing his temper so quickly.

"Ms. Clara. Do not act like you understand the things you don't." Behind his gentle tone was a chilling warning. She didn't answer, and so he changed the topic while slipping on a kindred expression.

"Your mother was once the storyteller called "Red-Handed Jill" on my ship. Well, at least for a day." Clara whipped her head up at the mention of her mother, and her eyes sparkled once again. James studied her, and didn't fail to notice how she took a step forward towards him.

"Was she? She never mentioned that inside her writings." She leaned in closer, her eyes widening. It was as if she had immediately forgotten their previous conversation, or as if it had never happened in the first place.

"Oh yes, and I'm sure there are many things she left out."

"Was she kind?"

"Immensely."

"Beautiful?"

"The fairest of them all. She also had a wild spirit, always craving for the exciting and unknown. My dear, aren't you tired of living a dull life?" He tucked a stray piece of copper hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her skin. She jerked a bit, and realized that he had caught her off-guard.

"I'll scream, and father will come." She repeated her earlier threat, but made no effort to move away or even project her voice. Or even bat his hand radiating with warmth away. When had been the last time she had felt another human's touch?

"Ah, but there wouldn't be an adventure for you, now will there?" He kept his hand lingering in her hair, and dropped his voice so only she could hear.

"Adventure? For me?" Her words barely left her mouth and barely reached his ears.

"I can take you to a place full of it, the very place your mother loved with all her heart after Peter. I can show you all the wonders that place has to offer, and you can even become a member of my crew." His whispers tickled her heart and sent a jolt of fear and excitement through to her very core. She was breathless, and every part of her tingled with excitement and itched to follow him.

"I can't go." But she was already thinking about leaving. The back of his hand almost brushed against her cheek as he pulled away and put a few feet of distance between them. And for some odd reason, Clara found herself wanting his hand back in her hair again.

"Why not? If you're really Wendy's daughter, you'll find Neverland to be a wonderful world filled with beauty and mystery." _'Instead of finding it to be a cold, blue prison as it is for me.'_ James hid his thoughts so well behind his pleasant expression, and opening his hand for her to take.

Clara swallowed hard. The silk dress felt heavier, and the corset even tighter. The urge to break out into a sprint intensified within her shivering legs. The deep desires to scream and about like a wild child re-emerged inside of her, boiling and bubbling and almost spilling over.

Accepting meant absolute freedom from society's restraints and her father's. It meant liberation from the role of a demure, domestic doll. Having another purpose in her life and not wasting it away by being a mere decoration on the arm of a man called "husband."

"Come with me, your parents had their fun… Don't you think it's your turn?"

"Even so, you are not a man I should trust, my dear captain."

"I'm not asking for your trust. I'm simply offering you a deal, and it's your choice whether to take it or not."

"Will I get to see the mermaids?"

"If you wish it."

"Will you teach me how to use a sword?"

"I'd be delighted to."

"Will you tell me more about my mother?"

A smile from him. This time, there was melancholy lurking behind it to match his eyes.

"But of course."

For a moment, the world stood completely still. Clara could no longer hear the faint sounds of chatter and music coming from her father's mansion. All she could her was his voice ringing inside her head, joining the thrashing drum of her beating heart.

All Clara could imagine was the vision of her father calling for her as he ransacked her room, searching for a girl who wasn't there. The vision of him standing on the open balcony window, spending hours searching the skies for her. The vision of him falling asleep holding her picture stained with tears, and whispering her name even while dreaming.

She grabbed Hook's open, waiting hand.

* * *

 _My Lovely Reader,_

 _Was this chapter perhaps a bit too long? I hope I haven't bored you or lulled you off to sleep. Or, if you were having trouble sleeping and fell asleep whilst reading my incompetent story, then you're welcome._

 _If you cannot tell already, as a child I was forced to read a lot of classics(which I found to be quite dull) and subconsciously my own writing style seems to mirror those books in the bad ways. I write a lot of descriptions and internal monologues(which can be quite boring for you), and I wasn't aware of how many words I actually knew due to my daily vocabulary being consisted mostly of text lingo and slang(such as dope and bruh)._

 _But in all seriousness, I'm trying out a new way of writing that I am not used to, and so I had a lot of difficulty writing this chapter. I wasn't sure on how to explain the thoughts of two characters since I'm used to writing in first person p.o.v, and I felt that some parts just weren't that smooth. Input on what I did well and didn't do well in this chapter will be quite helpful, and blatant insults are also welcome as long as a reason to why I suck at writing is stated, so that I know what my weak points are._

 _Also, special thanks to VelvetGoldie, who was the first person to review this story and motivate me to finish writing up to chapter 4 in three days. I appreciate you very much, and I find your writing to be quite superior to my own and your story to be much better. Thank you again._

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	3. Chapter 3

**Neverland**

"Is Tinkerbell on your ship right now? Oh! Is she really that lovely? How did you manage to convince her to help you? Oh how silly of me, I forgot that you have excellent persuasion skills Captain. Or, maybe you used her jealously against her?" The two were briskly marching through the dimly-lit streets of London. There were many strange glances shot in their direction by the other pedestrians, but they both ignored them since it was expected.

After all, a pirate next to a young woman in evening clothes was not exactly the most average sight.

"Although I must say, I prefer your first name more: it's quite classy and it has a nice ring to it. Can't I call you Mr. James instead? Or Mr. Hook?" She was sputtering out words faster than the speed of light, and the captain could only catch three or two words at a time.

James had been a fool to think that Clara was calm and mature in his first impressions of her. He should've known that she had the blood of Peter running deep inside of her, making virtues such as "calm and mature" impossible qualities for her to possess. She was now red-faced and grinning like a madwoman, and she did a terrible job of hiding the inner child within her that had been dormant for years. But the most aggravating quality about her was how perceptive she was, and how right her assumptions were about him.

He should've just knocked her unconscious and stuffed her in a body bag. Because if she was unconscious, at least she would shut up. But it was too late now to turn hostile, because he had already persuaded her to willingly come, and he had already earned her trust.

A little bit too easily, in fact. Oddly, it felt as if she was the one pulling a trick on him, instead of the other way around.

"You're awfully quiet Mr. James." Hook suppressed a sigh, and shot a sideways glance at the young girl. From the outside, she only looked like any other foolish, naïve girls her age. But he knew that appearances were never to be trusted, so he grabbed onto her wrist.

"And you are quite the chatterbox. Ms. Clara, please focus on walking. We can have a nice chat with some rum-I mean tea later." With that, he picked up his pace, tugging Clara along behind him. She had to break out into a light jog to catch up to his much longer strides, and felt her stomach ready to burst because of her corset.

Now he knew it was rude and ill-mannered to rough handle a lady like so, but they were running out of time. Neverland was faraway, and the night was already halfway over.

Clara stopped babbling so she could breathe as she was being dragged along. She didn't notice when they were soon no other people on the street, and also didn't notice when they weren't even on a street anymore. Her worn-out shoes were hitting against grass, and only when she saw nothing but fog in front of her did she grow afraid.

"Captain? Where are we going?"

"To the ship. Where else?"

"I don't see a ship anywhere." She had not noticed that they had stopped, or that there was a big ship right in front of her. The Jolly Roger had been anchored in a remote cave a little off from the docks, in an area heavy with mist to shield it from view.

"Smee!" Ignoring Clara and releasing her, Hook continued marching forward while craning his neck back. He glared up above past the railing until the plump, wrinkly face he was looking for popped up.

"Aye sir!" Upon seeing his master, the boatswain ordered other men to lower the ramp for them to climb onto. And then Clara finally saw the sea vessel in front of her.

"Oh! Oh wow. How on earth did I not see it before?" Ignoring her once again, Hook climbed up the lowered ramp with ease and Clara trailed after him like a lost child.

On the deck, there were a lot of dirty-looking sailors who scuffled about. Clara noticed a couple stiffening upon seeing the return of their leader, while others shot brief glances in her direction. But before anyone could stare for too, long, the captain began barking his orders at them.

"Douse the sails. We will be leaving for Neverland immediately and your duties are the same as before." James Hook's voice boomed across the ship, and once it did the men formed into a unified crew. All stood straight like military soldiers before their commander, and all were ready to obey his every word.

"Aye Capt'n!" The response sounded like it came from one man.

"Well then don't stand there like idiots! Move! Oh and John, do as you did before." While the rest dissipated and ran off to their assigned posts, one very bear-like man remained still with a pepper shaker inside of his massive mitts.

"Aye sir." His voice was deep and low as one would expect it to be. He turned the small jar upside and down and began to violently shake it like a maraca. But instead of seasoning coming out from the tiny openings, there was shimmering dust. There was also the frantic, distressed sounds of jingling bells.

Clara's eyes widened.

"Is that Tinkerbell?! Don't shake her like that!" But the storm of footsteps and Hook's voice drowned out her words, and so the surly man walked away while continuing to shake and shake and shake.

"I need more men on the foremast!" James walked off, his attention focused on getting his ship in the air again instead of on his willing captive.

Clara chased after the large man who continued his assault on the trapped fairy, and didn't notice that the ship had begun to move forward. The anchor had been raised and the helmsman begun to steer the Jolly Roger away from the docks.

"Harrison! Do you wish to be flogged? Move faster!" The ship had now lifted off the water a few inches, and Hook then yelled at the riggers to pull at the right ropes after calling them "incompetent imbeciles."

"Hello! You! Sir!" Clara had thought she was yelling. But she was actually whispering the words while her face was turning bluish.

The man climbed up on one of the rope ladders to start heading aloft towards the upper rigs, and the winded lady was hot on his trail. Whether he was deaf or simply ignoring her existence, Clara could not tell. But either way, she had to pummel her body used to tea parties and strudels in order to just keep up with her target. With each step she grew more distant from the deck's ground, and each step left less air inside her tight lungs.

They were all now a whole yard above water, and traveling closer and closer to the second star at an exponentially increasing rate of speed, thanks to travelling with the wind.

Hook heard a very strange strangling type of sound. Whipping his head around, he spotted John sprinkling the fairy dust as he had ordered him to, whilst climbing up the main mast. But he also spotted Clara trailing after him, who was obviously about to faint. Both the girl and the large man were half-way up to the very top. He noticed how her torso was practically popping out of the torture device called a "corset," and wondered why she would subject herself to such suffering for the sake of fashion. Gasping like a fish out of water, it was quite obvious that Clara was either going to fall off or pass out.

But before the captain could say anything, there was a sudden lurch as the ship finally started moving in the diagonal, steep incline it was supposed to, and he nearly fell over but was able to grip the side of the ship.

Clara, however, was flung off from the rope ladder, and before she could even scream her body plunged downwards and smashed into the wooden deck with a thunderous thud. The impact was so loud that some men stopped right in their tracks to turn and stare. Stare at the unconscious girl, who had passed out as soon as she had hit the ground and whose legs were sprawled out in the most unladylike fashion.

Hook closed his eyes and sighed deeply, and already regretting that he told her she could be a member of his crew. After all, it had hardly been three minutes yet she had already managed to knock the daylights out of herself.

He let out another long sigh, before forcing himself to gaze upon the pathetic sight again.

"Smee." The bosun immediately appeared out of nowhere.

"Aye?"

"Go check and make sure she isn't dead."

"Aye." Smee shuffled his way over, and shooed at the men who had stopped while telling them it was rude to stare.

The rest of the journey back went better than expected, and Clara's unconscious form was sat on a stool next to the captain. Using his replacement for a hand, he tore through the back of her dress and whale-bone undergarment to allow the girl to actually breathe. Even though she was still asleep, she sensed the sudden chill that seeped across the naked skin on her back and the cold metal tracing down her spine. Gasping, Clara shuddered and crumbled within herself, and her bare arms wrapped themselves tightly around her thin form. The sound of ripping fabric caught the attention of some of the men, but before they could try and get a peek at the girl's bare back the captain growled at them. Their heads snapped away, and didn't turn back again.

Hook shrugged off his favorite, gold-trimmed coat and draped it around the young lady to give her warmth and to protect her modesty.

The Jolly Roger traveled through the starry skies of London and smoothly sailed towards the portal to another world. And as they passed through the second star, there was a flash of blue light that blurred out everything else. Everyone in the crew shut their eyes, and when they opened them again they found a familiar white wasteland before them.

But something strange started to happen. Within the minute of their return, the sun started to shine. Gray clouds started dissipating, little bit of blue started to return in the sky, and Hook swore that he felt the air grow warmer by ten degrees.

Hook and Smee both glanced at the unconscious girl once again, before looking up at each other. They had the exact same idea in mind.

The idea being that Neverland had recognized her.

"It's sun Capt'n!" Cried one of the carpenters.

"Aye! Tis spring at last!"

"No more frostbite!" Some members of the crew started laughing and cheering amongst themselves, but all were oblivious to who the girl was. After all, they were all different men from when Peter had been in Neverland, and most of them had no idea about who Wendy was.

Once the ship safely descended and landed on the water, Hook had Smee prepare a room. And when it was ready, he carried the sleeping girl very gently so he wouldn't disturb her. As the captain set her down on her temporary bed that was a hammock, Clara quietly sighed while wrapping the red jacket tighter around herself.

Forcing himself not to look in her direction again, Hook left the room as swiftly and quietly as he could. His fast pace did not slow or stop until he was finally within the safety of his chambers. And after releasing a heavy sigh, he shut his eyes and allowed his weary body slump to the ground. He leaned against his closed bedroom door.

"Good heavens...What have I gotten myself into?" He whispered to himself, and wasn't surprised when no one answered.

* * *

 _My Dear Reader,_

 _Writing this story shall be a great source of joy for me knowing that there are people out there who actually find them interesting. Thank you to all those who have left lovely reviews on this humble piece of writing. **"Guest,"** **usualguest** , and **MuscialsandMordred** , (And **VelvetGoldie** from chapter one) you have all made my day so much happier and brighter when you reviewed. I have written chapter 6 and 7, but i need to finish 5 fist and edit 4. My work style is more like random spikes, and so I apologize if chapter updates are quite erratic or strange. _

_Thank you again for all your support, and now I shall get back to writing. I hope your day is wonderful, and I hope you'll be in the same, good mood I was in when y'all reviewed._

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	4. Chapter 4

**Enemies**

A loud rap on the door caused Clara to jolt awake.

It was now light, and she saw the ceiling above her. Blinking, she scanned the rest of the room: there was nothing else other than the hammock she laid on, a chair, and a window. She was inside a storage area that had been emptied, and it was about the size of a large closet. She could feel her body swaying, and it wasn't because she was on a hammock. Wood creaked like a low lullaby as the entire ship rocked about. There was a faint pounding in her head, and all her limbs were sore.

Another knock.

Despite feeling as if she had been battered half-to-death in a gang fight, Clara shot up in bed as memories from the night before came rushing back. She remembered the party, meeting Hook, and how she had been chasing after a large pirate who had been shaking a pepper jar with a fairy inside. Tinkerbell, to be precise, before falling off and everything turned to black.

"Ms. Banning? Are you awake?"

"Yes!" Barefooted, the wild woman leapt to her feet and bolted towards the door. When she opened it, she was blast with a cold wind that nearly knocked her off her feet again. But she kept her balance, and scanned her surroundings.

All she could see for miles and miles was the blue sea and sky. The deck was bustling with a couple of men from the crew, who were either busy with their tasks or drowsing off. Some shot subtle glances her way, while others openly stared without any shame.

Clara stared back, her eyes as wide and curious as the pirates who were looking at her.

"Good morning."

She jumped before snapping her head down, where the voice was coming from. She spotted the old man at least a head smaller than her, with spectacles were perched on the edge of his nose.

"Did you sleep alright?"

"Yes. I slept wonderfully...Are you Mr. Smee?"

"Aye. Does your head hurt at all? I'm worried you might have a concussion. Ye fell from a considerable height."

"Oh." Her cheeks burned, but she couldn't help but grin sheepishly while chucking. "It's not the first time it's happened, so don't worry sir. I'm completely fine since I have a thick skull...My, I must've been quite a silly sight!"

Both laughed, and both decided that they liked the other. Smee offered a bundle of folded clothes to Clara.

"For you, miss. They're clean."

Clara then realized that the back of her dress had been cut open and that she could actually breathe. And then her head snapped back to her sleeping area, and sure enough found an ornate jacket sprawled on the ground.

A man's jacket that she had slept in, all night long.

Clearing her throat and fighting down the heat on her cheeks, the young woman faced Smee again and took the spare outfit from his hands.

"Thank you. I'll change into these immediately."

"Alright. And after you do, the Capt'n wishes for ye to join him for lunch." Her expression brightened.

"Oh how delightful. Lunch!" And then her expression fell again. "Pardon me? Lunch?"

"Yes miss. You slept in quite a bit, and the Capt'n ordered me to wake you up. When yer done changing, I'll take you to him."

She did just that. The clothes given to her was a basic seaman's outfit, consisting of a plain white blouse with brown breeches and boots. They were all a bit too big for her, but Clara had no complaints. Clara rushed to follow the small man on the over to the captain's chambers, and was not given enough time to scrutinize her temporary new home. As her eyes wandered about and took in as much as she could of her nautical environment, Smee knocked on the front door of the captain's chambers once they arrived.

"Sir? I've brought the lass."

"Bring her in." Upon hearing his muffled voice on the other side of the door, Clara finally faced forward. And after she stepped inside, Smee shut the door behind her.

The room was rather neat, large and ornate. The furniture was all made of mahogany and matching. There was a king-sized bed, a desk, bookshelves, a closet, a harpsichord, and of course, the resident of the room himself. Hook was sitting in dining table with a glorious feast and sipping some alcoholic beverage. Before him was an abundance of food Clara had never even seen before, most of it being from the sea. There was lobster, all sorts of shellfish, some soups, and some regular meats such as chicken.

"Good morning, Ms. Clara." He was dressed lavishly as usual, but wearing navy-blue coat. Clara rather liked it, and thought it suited him better than the red one.

The red one that was still on her bedroom's floor.

"Good morning captain." She then curtseyed despite wearing pants. "Thank you for the clothes."

"We'll steal some your size in our next raiding. Did you have any dreams? Or did you hit your head too hard?"

A blush from Clara following with a nervous chuckle.

"Ah...Yes. I had a very strange dream that you took me Neverland. And one of your men was shaking a poor fairy from a pepper shaker!"

Hook smirked.

"How strange. I recall having the exact same dream."

"What happened to the pixie in your dream, captain?"

"The blasted creature escaped in mine."

Clara smiled.

"That's wonderful to hear! No one deserves to be treated in such a-"

A grumble resembling a whale's mating call sounded from Clara's stomach, cutting her off before she could finish. Her cheeks went from pink to tomato red.

"Please, eat." He gestured towards the empty seat across from him, and Clara obeyed almost immediately. Her mind was no longer aware of the pirate's presence, and her eyes could only see the buffet displayed before her.

"Do pirates care about table manners?" Her mouth watered, and she had to lick the corner of her lips to stop herself from drooling.

"No. Feel free to indulge yourself."

Hook hadn't expected her to actually heed his words. She stuffed her face with all the food she could grab, as if it would be the last time she would ever eat. Or as if it was the very first time she had ever eaten a meal after years of starvation. She ate, and ate, and ate until the table was almost empty.

James had watched while quietly enjoying his own meal as well, and unlike the young lady he had actually chewed his food instead of breathing it in. And when the captain had long finished his meal and had observed the piggish girl for some time, she finally let out a belch. It sounded just as disgusting and loud as a man's, but Hook didn't even bat an eyelash. He only stared at her with wonder twinkling in his eyes. After all, he wasn't expecting such a small girl to have so much hidden space inside her stomach.

"I'm so happy. I think I shall die from bliss right now." She sighed with content while closing her eyes. Hook chuckled.

"You have quite the appetite."

She opened her eyes.

"Do you kill your men when in a bad temper?"

He blinked, and for a moment all he could do was look at her. Her question had almost come out of nowhere, but he regained his composure and slipped on a charming smile.

"Not the innocent ones."

"Are you denying that you've never shot any of your men out of anger?" She was like a child: rude and curious. But for some reason, Hook found it tolerable, and almost a little endearing.

Almost.

"I have, but I only lashed out after their third strike." He said it as if they were discussing the weather.

"Strikes? Do you keep track of the mistakes of others?"

"Why of course. I keep track and remember everything about all my men, both the good things and bad. I only forgive men twice for the same offence, and afterwards if I'm in a bad mood, they're the first to go. I don't do away with the ones who haven't wronged me."

The corners of her lips turned downwards.

"Life is not a baseball, captain."

"Of course not, life is no game." His expression darkened. "But some treat it as such."

"You are also a part of that group, sir."

He chuckled dryly before waving his hand in a dismissive manner.

"You may think whatever you like about me. But you should know that I will never hurt a hair on your head, and neither my hand or hook shall ever harm you. I give you my word, and if I were to break it then you may kill me."

"I'm charmed to know that I'll be kept alive. Are you always this courteous to others?" Clara's voice was dry and flat.

"No, I'm only especially polite to you, because you are a lady. And you deserve to be treated as such."

"I don't think you should be chivalrous to me anymore. After all, I'm a pirate now too."

"Patience, you're not one yet my dear. You will be once I'm done with you, but even then it'd be very bad form for me not to act like a perfect gentleman to you. I'm afraid I'll have to continue treating you as kindly as before."

"Well I don't want you to go easy on me just because of my sex, dear captain." She pointed her chin out while wearing the haughtiness expression she could muster, in hopes of looking "dignified" and "grown up."

But it only made her appear five, and it only amused Hook.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, my darling. Women are quite different than men, and that's a universal fact that you cannot ignore." With that, he downed the rest of his rum.

Clara shot him an evil eye.

"Well I don't think we're all that different. Underneath we're all still blood and bones, and we're all equals as human beings."

"Well of course." Hook looked at her as if she had stated the obvious. But his nonchalant tone offended the young lady.

"A woman can do anything a man can do!"

"I think you mean almost everything."

Clara's blood boiled. She stood up in her chair.

"No! Everything! We are all humans!"

"I admire your open mindedness darling, it's adorable. But I'm not trying to be a chauvinist pig, I am merely stating the facts. I cannot expect as much from you as I would from my men, and it's not because of your gender. In terms of experience, you know absolutely nothing about surviving at sea but my men do, and expecting the same would put you at a high disadvantage." He waved a hand for her to sit down, and she complied.

"That's quite unfair captain! You'll be expecting nothing out of me then, and treating me like an incompetent child."

Hook thought she was exactly that, but he held back from saying so.

"Equality does not mean treating everyone the same."

"I think it does."

"No, it does not. There are certain things a woman can do that a man cannot, and there are things a man can do that a women cannot. Equality does not mean overlooking differences or pretending that they don't exist. Equality, is giving everyone a fair opportunity. A fair chance."

"I would like an example, please." She said with an exaggerated huff. Despite not agreeing or liking everything she was hearing, Clara found herself unable to contain a smile.

Hook chugged down another cup of booze before setting it down with a clank.

"Alright, fine. Say there was an embroidery contest and I joined." Clara giggled upon imaging the scenario, but the captain ignored her and continued. "I have never embroidered before, and I'm missing my dominant hand. Would it be fair to expect me to create something on the same level as women who have had years of experience?"

For the first time that day, Clara fell silent. As realization hit her, she found herself nodding and finally understanding what he had meant.

"Oh...I'm quite less offended. But I am still offended that I'll be treated differently."

"Well I can't help favoritism." He said so without thinking. She then beamed at him with sparkling eyes, and it caught him completely off guard.

"I'm your favorite? Oh I'm honored. Won't Smee be jealous?" Clara let out another cheeky laugh, her bright expression still in place.

It had been years since a woman had smiled at him. The last time a lady was friendly with him was when he was a timid college student at Eton University. After he had become Captain James Hook, women tended to avoid his gaze or nearly faint at the sight of him. Or stare at him with utter disgust and loathing overflowing from their eyes. They'd only whisper about him when no one was around, and pray that they'd never run into him.

It finally dawned on him that there was a living lady sitting in front of him who did not completely fear or hate him. He didn't flatter himself into thinking that she actually enjoyed his company, however. And so he put a fake smile back on and grew cautious once more.

"I'm glad I've cleared up any misunderstandings." He stood, causing Clara to jump a bit. "It was wonderful having lunch with you. I have matters to attend to, and so I shall be taking my leave."

"But what about giving me a tour?" She stood as well, and leaned her head back to meet his eyes.

"Smee can do that. I've ordered him to be with you at all times, and he will attend to your every need. If you'd like, you may follow him around and help with his duties."

"But..."Biting her tongue, Clara dropped her gaze to the red tablecloth and her smile shattered. She had remembered exactly why she had come, and exactly who she was.

She was his enemy.

James noticed the sudden sadness in her expression, but decided not to say nothing and was about to leave. But she spoke up again and stopped him in his tracks.

"Why do you hate Peter so much?"

Hook wiped his expression blank even though his back was turned to her.

"Why are you so fascinated by my motives?" He kept his voice neutral to match his face.

She was fascinated by him in general, but of course she didn't say it out loud. She raised her eyes to stare at his back.

"Mother's diary never explained them, since she didn't understand them herself. I'm sure it's not as simple as the grudge you hold for him taking your hand."

Her blatant statements sent a sharp prick of irritation through James and dissipated the pleasant mood that had been hanging over the air from before.

"You are correct. It's not a mere grudge." His spoke in a voice that could freeze over Neverland again.

"Then what is the cause for your hatred for him? Your obsession for him? Was Peter Pan a symbol of something else, just like that crocodile?" Her green eyes burned with curiosity. She did know more about him than Hook liked to admit, but she did not know everything.

And he wasn't going to tell her anything.

"You can come up with as many assumptions as you want, but that won't change a damn thing."

"It will change my perception of you."

"Your opinion does not matter."

"I think you can be a good man."

"I think you are delusional."

"No, I am imaginative. And because I am, I have convinced myself to believe that your revenge has a lot to do with me."

"Oh really? How so?" He didn't bother suppressing the growl lurking in his voice.

"You were hoping that my father would be in despair to have his only child disappear, and that he would've been deeply crushed. I believe that this was your revenge." Her voice was steady and confident.

Hook curled his hand into a tight fist, and couldn't control the burning fire that began to bubble inside his veins. But he said nothing he waited for her to continue.

"You're a man of feeling, are you not? You've assumed that my father was too, but you are very wrong."

Wrong. The word echoed in his mind like ghost.

He barely resisted the urge to shoot the girl.

"But my father is cold and calloused. He is only like Peter Pan in the worst ways: he is so forgetful and so very careless. I don't even think he's noticed I'm gone by now. And even if he does know, he wouldn't care." Her voice quivered, and she had to swallow. Clara was unaware that James was also shaking, but it wasn't out of cold or fear unlike her.

"I'd say my father is quite relieved that I'm gone, in fact. Captain, you really are just like my mother's stories had described you to be. You really are just a terribly hateful, bitter, sad man whose allowed a child to completely drive him to the brink of insanity. You can't forgive or use reason to-"

"Enough!" He whirled around before slamming his hook onto the table, causing several plates and forks to fly off and clatter to the ground. Clara couldn't help but flinch and let out a small cry. He thrust his arm back, sending the table flying behind him and crashing onto the floor. His voice shook the entire room, and the ghost of his words bounced around in the air.

"You think you've got me all figured out now, don't you? Well I'm sorry to tell you, but I am not a mere character of your mother's silly story."

Clara squeaked again a little before backing away, but he didn't back down. He took two steps forward for every step she took back.

"Now now, no need to get so angry and-" Her words were cut off as she ran into a wall. James stood right in front, but Clara's legs shook too much for her to try and escape.

"Look at me." He growled like a dog, and Clara obeyed. "You are here for your own reasons, and I've brought you here for mine. You need to keep that pretty nose of yours inside your own business, or be willing to take the consequences. Don't toy with fire or you'll end up getting burned."

Even though his steely glower made every part of Clara freeze over and tense, she found herself unable to look away. Although she quaked before him, Clara couldn't help but gaze into the bluest pair of eyes she's ever seen: a pair of eyes that she most likely could never forget.

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder without breaking her stare.

"But one can't help but be drawn to a bright fire, especially when it's frightfully dark and cold." Her voice was soft, but not quite a whisper.

Before he could respond or have time to process her words, there was suddenly the sound of crashing lighting.

A violent explosion lurched the two off of their feet and rattled the entire room. Hook and Clara's bodies smashed into the ground. The captain quickly recovered and immediately searched for Clara, and saw that the girl had landed alright as well. But while he was clear headed, Clara's gaze was out of focus and her head felt more faint. Her ears still rang and she looked more than a little dazed.

"Clara." Hook's calm voice helped the fog of fuzziness dissipate from her head. She lifted her face up, eyes growing wide and frantic.

"What..." Her voice cracked. Everything was swaying and sloshing about violently, and furniture was sliding about. James rose unsteadily to his feet, before grabbing hold of Clara and hoisting her up too.

"What happened?" Her voice was a whisper. Hook could smell gunpowder, and there was some smoke seeping in from the outside. Eyes narrowing and jaw clenching, he sat her on the bed before striding over to the door.

"Wait!" Clarity gripped her mind once again. "Where are you-"

"Stay." He didn't even glance back once as he opened the door and shutting it after sliding out.

Red seeped across her skin from the very tips of her ears all the way to her toes. Clara's face crumbled into the nastiest pout, and she couldn't help huffing and puffing or blowing her cheeks out like a puffer fish.

"Oh? 'Stay?' Stay?! Treating me like a dog now?! Whatever happened to treating me like a lady?!" Her nostrils flared as she continued panting, and her tiny body shook as if it was a volcano ready to explode. "I don't sit when told to, and I don't roll over when asked! I am a free woman! And I shall do what I want when I want!"

With no one to hear or answer her furious cries, Ms. Banning stood and stormed out.

* * *

 _My Awesome Reader,_

 _I apologize again for writing such a lengthy chapter. But most of it was dialogue so I hope I am forgiven or at least that some of it was interesting._

 _I never really thought much about "character chemistry" in the past before, and I don't have a lot of experience writing romantic relationships. I am the type to shy away from romance, or turn romance into more of a comedy or friendship. Writing serious or traditionally "romantic" and "lovey-dovey" stories aren't exactly my forte, which is why I decided to write this story(I apologize if some parts are cheesy). I think writing one would be quite challenging because mushy things make me awkward, but I thought this story would be perfect for practicing. And one has to work on their weak points, right? Anyways, I apologize that you are all my guinea pigs, and hopefully through your reactions I hope to discover what tactics for romance works with my "style" and what doesn't._

 _Also, was the no-adding-dialogue-tags thing too weird? I often don't really like it when there's a million "he said" or "she said's" in books, and decided to experiment by not really adding any to some parts at all. Was it too confusing and unsettling, or did you like that I didn't add too much? Anyways, thank you all for reading/checking out this humble story once again._

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	5. Chapter 5

**The Other Pirates**

"What happened?!"

When Hook arrived on the deck, he could see that another ship was creeping closer and closer to his own. But there were already a couple of the other pirate's men on his deck, fighting against his own crew.

Before the captain of the Jolly Roger could bark orders or start blasting the brains of the attackers, a familiar voice lined with a slight French accent came from behind.

"Long time no see, you bourgeoisie bastard!" He whirled around, and found none other than the Black Bird's leader standing before him. The man was a dark-haired and in his thirties, and there was a large scar running through the corner of his lips the bottom of his chin. He had eyes like pools of black ink and a wolfish grin, and his once fair skin was tan from all the years in the sun.

"Raoul. You recovered more quickly than I imagined." Hook's tone remained calm and composed to match his expression. The other man twitched in agitation, and could hardly contain his urge to stab his taller rival.

"I had to if I wanted revenge." The spidery man sneered before stepping forward."You've raided my ship twice this month. That's very "bad form" of you!"

"We've known each other too long to care about good manners. Don't you agree?"

" _Brûle en enfer,_ you pompous, overdressed pig. You should be beheaded."

"If you haven't noticed, that particular heinous bloodbath...Oh pardon me, _revolution,_ has ended already."

The two of them were too absorbed in their conversation to notice a certain young lady with orange hair emerge from the captain's quarters. Her eyes zeroed in on one man and one man alone, and everything else such as the fighting men and exploding of dynamite were blocked out. Stomping over like a little girl about to throw a temper tantrum, she ignored the increasing storm of violence around her until she was standing right in front of her target.

"Captain!" He blinked when Clara appeared before him, pouting at him the way an unhappy child would to her father when he came home two hours late for dinner. "You so very rudely walked away without bothering to explain what was going on. And you didn't even leave me any means to protect myself!"

"Who is this woman?" Raoul asked, but Hook ignored him. Instead, he grit his teeth and lowered his voice into a hoarse whisper so that only Clara could hear him.

"I believe I told you to stay inside." Hook hissed the words, but Clara only pouted her pretty lips and stuck her prim nose up into the air.

"Well I haven't sworn my allegiance to you as a member of the crew yet, so I do not have to do anything you say."

Raoul burst out into a laugh, which finally caused Clara to finally notice his presence and turn around to face him. Her nose crinkled as she eyed his form up and down: it was quite obvious from his appearance and a smell that he had not had a bath in weeks. Maybe even months.

"My my my...What have we got here?" His gaze roved all over her body, and his eyes grew-half lidded. A smirk slipped up onto his lips as impure thoughts filled his mind. He chuckled, while continuing to scrutinize her petite form.

Hook stepped forward, shielding her from Raoul's perverted gaze.

"Oh you're such a selfish old man... Keeping such a pretty thing all to yourself." His voice was a purr, and he tried leaning to the right to try and get a glimpse of the girl again. Hook growled and continued blocking Raoul's lecherous vision.

"She is not a thing, Raoul. She is a human."

A snicker.

"All women are things, Hook. Playthings, actually. Toys created to satisfy all our desires, treasures for us to claim, and property we can take from others. And if we get tired of one, we can simply plunder another."

Clara's blood boiled, but exercised enough self-control to remained still next to the captain while jutting her chin up into the air. She stepped out from behind him, her eyes burning.

"Captain, who is that hideously ugly and frail-looking man over there? Could you please remove him from my sight? I would hate to go blind."

The captain shot a glance at her, the tiniest of smiles threatening to spill across his lips. But before he could say anything, Raoul cackled again. The sweaty man licked his lips while leering at her one last time, before unsheathing his cutlass from his belt and glowering at his long-time enemy.

"I like her. I think I'm going to take her." His words sent shudders down Clara's body, and she consciously reached out to grab Hook's sleeve.

The captain noticed, and something snapped. He bared his teeth before drawing his own blade, eyes narrowing into sharp slits. Every part of him tensed, and he stepped forward while shielding the girl with his arm.

"Hide somewhere, and use this gun and shoot anyone who comes near you." He handed a firearm to Clara without breaking his glare from Raoul. She took the pistol, a frown lining her features.

"I... I don't know how to-" Another explosion as another bomb blasted off in another part of the ship. The young women was knocked off her feet again, but she didn't have time to panic because everything erupted into chaos.

The other ship with the rest of Raoul's men arrived, and the new arrivals let out fearsome war cries while swinging over to the Jolly Roger's deck. Gunpowder and smoke clogged up Clara's nose and eyes, but she managed to scramble to her feet and bolt away as fast as she could, the firearms still gripped tightly in her hand. She knew to keep her finger away from the trigger.

Some footsteps were trailing behind her, and Clara sprinted faster. Blood pounded in her ears ad she was short of breath, but every part of her buzzed with a thrill she had never known before. She wanted to scream in terror and panic, but the urge to laugh while twirling about was even faster. It was like a splendid game of tag, except losing meant death.

Suddenly, a man was in front of her, and the one behind was still there too. She stopped, and so did the other pirate.

"A women eh?" He snickered, before running towards her. She leaped over to the side at the last possible moment, causing both her attackers to crash into each other. If she had time, she would've thrown her head back and crowed. But she did not have time, and so she continued running away to nowhere in particular, with just the goal of getting as far away as she could from everyone else.

Back on the deck, there was chaos as everyone shot and swung their sowrds at each other. Some throwing in some punches and fatal stabs too. And in the eye of the storm, the two leaders of the feuding pirate crews were engaged in battle, and everyone else knew not to disturb.

Raoul lunged, but Hook deflected the blow. Raoul would dodge and attack, and somewhat erratically swing his weapon but miss a vital organ every time.

"I will kill you! I will finish you!" Raoul's hair was wild and his eyes crazed. He gnashed his teeth and snarled like a feral beast, his greasy hair sticking to his moist forehead. He was panting and out of breath, while Hook still looked no different from before.

The captain smiled.

"Really? Well I don't mean to be rude but it's taking quite a long time." Raoul screamed while pouncing forward. But Hook deflected the Frenchman's blade with his surrogate limb, and practically hurled the smaller man backwards as the sword clattered to the ground. Some air was knocked out of Raoul when his back hit a wall. Hook was in front of him again. A jolt of panic rushed through Raoul's system, and it propelled him to desperately slam himself into Hook's torso. The sudden attack causing both to stagger but not fall.

Raoul jumped back and quickly retrieved his weapon. He launched himself at full speed, arms straight and intention for impaling his enemy crystal clear. Hook waited until the last possible moment to doge, which caused Raoul's blade to get deeply lodged inside the wall. He was unarmed once again.

Hook struck Raoul's head. The blow sent him crashing to the ground. A groan from the fallen Black Bird leader. Hook brought his hook to Raoul's neck, and the sensation of icy steel upon bare skin made the man's blood freeze. But right when Hook raised his arm to finish the pest off, Clara's scream rang across the air.

The captain's head snapped to where she was, and found her cornered by one of Raoul's men, who had his arm raised to strike. Hook's arm moved on its own and shot the man.

But before the assaulter's lifeless body could even start slumping down, Raoul drove his knee into Hook's stomach. The captain grunted and tried pointing his pistol at him, but he failed to move fast enough and received a blow to the chin. While he was falling, Raoul grabbed his rival's left wrist and snapped it the wrong way and smashed it to the ground using all his body weight.

A loud crack of bone fracturing rang across the air. Red flashed across the captain's vision as he howled in pain. Despite the searing sensation of shattering bone that burned across his senses, the captain wildly swung his hook.

But Raoul leapt back like a monkey before sticking his fingers in his mouth and letting out a whistle.

"Grab the girl and retreat!" With that, Raoul bolted away before Hook could claw him.

"Let me go! You scoundrel! You beast!" Clara thrashed her limbs about and screamed like a hysterical banshee. Hook forced himself up, eyes widening as he saw the skinny girl easily being hauled over a big man's shoulder as if she was nothing more but a flour sack.

For a moment, their eyes met. And for a moment, Clara's eyes flashed with fear and desperation. Pleading.

But just as quickly as they came, the Black Bird crew left, leaving most of the Jolly Roger's crew groaning on the splintered deck. And leaving a growling captain clutching his only hand with his hook, glaring ahead with eyes flashing red.

* * *

 _My most esteemed readers,_

 _I apologize for the delay of this particular chapter. I had too much fun writing the other two chapters that come after this one. Action scenes aren't exactly my strong point, and I'm aware that this is one of my weaker chapters since these types of things aren't my forte, but I hope it was forgivable ahaha. This story 's is most definitely new, uncharted territory for me in all ways, but hey. Life is all about trying new things, and practice makes perfect!_ _I do not know yet the exact number of how long this story will be, but hopefully it won't be too long or short. I won't worry about it however, because like how a lovely writer named VelvetGoldie stated in her equally lovely (and uplifting) reviews/advice, it's about having fun and not about getting it right._

 _Thank you all who have reviewed: MusicalsandMordreds for you kind words, and thank you usualguest for your compliments. And VelvetGolide thank you again for your really thoughtful reviews filled with some very constructive criticism that I found to be quite useful. I shall heed your advice and I appreciate your honest thoughts._

 _I thank all of you again for keeping up with this humble story, and I appreciate everyone's support and kindness._

 _StrangelySilentSoul_


	6. Chapter 6

**Tricks**

"Oh Capt'n, does it hurt?" Smee had an entire box of medical equipment with him, and was doing his best to study his master's useless left wrist. He could see that his leader's fingers were very pale. But the area where the bone snapped was red, purple, and swollen. There was a small indent of where the broken skeleton was poking outwards and a very disturbing angle.

"How many casualties?" Hook sat extremely still, his tone and face neutral. His focus was fixated out into space, at nothing in particular.

"They've killed two of our men and injured five. And of course they took Miss. Banning."

Ah yes, the idiot girl who had probably never even held a kitchen knife before let alone a proper cutlass. The foolish woman who had easily fallen for his scheme and followed him without a second thought.

"What about the damages?"

"They've damaged our masts and ruined our rigs! And not to mention they ruined our lovely deck. I've spoke with Mr. Silver, and he says that the helm has broke too!" Smee continued patching up Hook's captain sighed, and leaned back on his chair while bracing himself for an impending migraine. It would take months to repair everything, and as of now the Jolly Roger couldn't sail anywhere. They were stuck and injured.

He briefly glanced back at his tightly-bandaged wrist and clenched his teeth.

"Whatever shall we do Capt'n?"

"What else is there to do Smee? Our men and ship are completely useless." He spat the words out, before tearing his stare away from his hand.

"But what about the lass?"

Hook sighed again while shutting his eyes.

She was just a puppet, a pawn for him to use from the very start. All Hook had to do was take her away from home and never bring her back, and for once he had succeeded. His plan didn't require her to be alive, and his revenge was complete: Banning could never see her again. All Hook had to do now was live peacefully for a couple more decades and kill time until the day Pan finally breathes his last breath.

But then an image of her smile flashed across his mind. He remembered her poison-ivy eyes brimming with curiosity and her prying questions. And then he recalled how she resembled like a frightened child, and turned to him for comfort when she was carried away. And he then recalled how Raoul had leered at her so.

Hook slammed his metal claw into his desk, creating a splinter down the middle that almost split it in half. Smee tumbled backwards as the captain stood.

"Damn them to hell!" His voice was a snarl. He didn't even flinch upon feeling the strain in his already torn ligament in the wounded wrist.

"Capt'n! Please don't move!" Smee gently ushered his leader to take a seat again. "Please sir, breathe."

Surprisingly, Hook did just that. He swallowed his rage that quaked his entire being, and after few moments of breathing, an icy calm settled inside his features. Smee mumbled something about tying him to a chair, and that was the final spark that fully ignited a fire of vengeance.

"We are going after them as soon as we can." Hook was composed and almost appeared sane. But Smee didn't fail to notice the burning rage that threatened to spill over inside his blue eyes.

"With our ship in this condition?"

"We shall simply steal another one."

"But what about our men? We're outnumbered."

"We shall attack from afar." Hook paused, and finally met his old bosun's gaze while a dark shadow settled in his features. "We'll pull the same, dirty trick those bastards pulled on us. We still have plenty of dynamite and bombs, do we not?"

"Aye, but even so we won't be able to fight them all."

Hook allowed a moment of silence. He frowned, and Smee thought he could actually hear the gears turning.

"Gather everyone and tell them to listen carefully, because I'm will not repeat myself."

* * *

Somewhere and sometime later, the screams of a very dissatisfied female captive echoed across the Black Bird ship. The sea vessel was anchored inside Skull Rock, and the waters thrashed about more than usual as if to match the mood of a certain ginger.

"You are all vile pigs! Fat, filthy scumbags! Cowardly chickens!" Clara screeched like a mad parrot while rattling the bars of her prison like a crazed gorilla. She had been yelling for hours now, but she still has so much oxygen left in her lungs. Especially since she had been liberated from a certain torture device.

"Shut up! You hideous witch!" A huge man named Bruce turned his head in her direction. But the pirate's roar did nothing to deter her. And glancing at her was a mistake, because now all of her attention was focused on him and him alone.

"Well if I'm a hideous witch, then what in Neverland does that make you? You've got a countenance that not even a mother could love! Oh wait, you don't have a mother! She found you so ugly that she threw you away!"

Upon hearing mention of his nonexistent maternal figure, the mountain of a man began to tear up. His lower lip quivered, and he began to whimper while bowing his head. The other men wouldn't have reacted like so, but Bruce had less brains and more heart than the others. And he was the only pirate aboard the Black Bird who still slept with a teddy bear.

"I do too have a mother!" His voice was shaky.

"Oh really? Where? " Clara scanned the deck through the metal bars. "I don't see another woman here except myself. Ah, so you are unattractive and a liar! No wonder your mother didn't want you! If she were to see you now, she would shake her head and weep in shame upon seeing what a horrid criminal you've become."

That was the final straw that send Bruce to burst into an explosion of hysterical sobs that shook the waters.

"You're so mean!" The giant tromped away, his footsteps setting off mini tsunamis and earthquakes, causing several other men to be knocked off balance.

Upon seeing the breakdown of an orphaned child disguised as a humongous adult, Clara bit her lip and wished to take back her rather harsh remarks. She half wanted to go after him to hug him while apologizing. But before she become too sorry for him, the sound of boots coming her way snapped her out of her thoughts. There was three men before her, and one of them was rattling a key at the lock. Clara's stomach dropped and her skin paled a bit, but no one else could sense the young lady's nervousness.

"Alright lady, we've had enough. Yer goin' to meet the sir now since he ordered it, and he's gun do whatever he wants with ye." The door to her small, closet-sized cell opened, and two of the three grabbed her arms from both sides.

"I can walk fine without any assistance!"

They ignored her and started marching, knowing that if they let go, she'd leap off the side of the boat and attempt to swim ashore.

As she was dragged to the lion's den, Clara desperately searched for an exit. There was only one exit, but she did manage to find out where the rowboats were hidden. She seared the memory inside her brain, before she was unceremoniously tossed into the captain's chambers while the door shut behind her.

"My my, I have never seen such a loud-mouthed woman before. I could hear you all the way from here! And that means I couldn't take my nap." A yawn from the Black Bird's captain who roused from his bed. He was dressed in his pajamas, and his coat was draped on a nearby chair.

The room was similar to Captain Hook's, only there was a lot more black and no harpsichords.

"I usually prefer the timid, obedient types, but I'm open-minded." Raoul chuckled while walking towards her. He studied her petite form, her fine bone structure and fiery hair, and he admired how her poison-ivy eyes glittered with utter hatred.

"Well I have never met a man who was so repulsive on both the inside and out." Clara briskly stood and brushed herself off, and then shot a dirty glare at the dirty man in front of her.

"Such nasty words coming from such pretty lips." Raoul reached his dirt-smeared fingers out, trying to stroke Clara's hidden kiss. But instead of feeling soft skin underneath his fingertips, Raoul was met with sharp jaws chomping down on his hand.

Crying out while hissing, Raoul ripped his hand away, but in the process Clara's teeth tore some skin off. He screamed obscenities that cannot be repeated, and Clara spat out blood and bits of flesh. She grimaced.

"You taste terrible! When was the last time you washed your hands?" There was some red between her front teeth.

Raoul growled while cradling his injured fingers, and glared daggers at the young lady.

"How dare you."

Clara didn't bat an eyelash.

"I demand to be released immediately and returned to The Jolly Roger." Clara held her head high, and kept her posture perfectly straight.

Raoul sneered, amusement completely replacing the anger.

"Why? Are you Hook's prostitute? Because if that's the case I can pay you even more."

Despite wanting to murder the man for the words that were coming out of his mouth, Clara's haughty look didn't change. She kept her tone cold and aloof, as if she had no reason to be talking to scum who were so beneath her. Acting like the well- bred English lady she wasn't, Clara turned her pointed, upturned nose away from him while sniffing. She was barely able to contain her rage inside that tiny body, and so every part of her shook.

"You are quite a perverted person Mr. Raoul. You might be desperate enough to resort to such practices, but I doubt our dear captain would."

Raoul snorted.

"Stupid wench. He's not a prim and proper gentleman, he's a pirate! I'm sure he's seen his fair share of strumpets." He roared with laughter. Clara glared.

"Perhaps, but unlike you he is a man."

Upon hearing the word, Raoul's snickers ceased. A murky look washed over his features, and his eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean by that?" His tone grew low. Clara didn't heed the warning behind his tone.

"He's not a monster. He's just a very angry man with morals. Questionable morals yes, but morals nonetheless." Clara turned her head to face Raoul straight on. "Unlike you, he's not some dirty, debauched dog willing to succumb to every fleshy desire. He has something called self-control."

Raoul's lip twitched into a snarl as he overturned a table, causing the whole room to echo and shake from the impact. Clara jumped back and ran into a chair.

"Cocky tramp! Don't act all high and mighty!" Some spit flew onto Clara's cheeks despite him being several feet away. She didn't flinch, but backed away until her back hit a wall.

"Morals? Morals?! Ha! No one's got that here! Hook probably has as much morals as the bottom of my boots."

Clara could smell his sour breath, but she could only squeak. She refrained from stating how stupid his illustration was, afraid that he would shoot her brains out right then and there. But then, as if a switch has been hit, Raoul's rage melted away. He leered at Clara's slim form up and down, while a dark look flickered inside the pools of ink. The girl shivered, but the gears in her brain finally started turning, and the puzzle of an idea clicked together. Of course, why hadn't she realized sooner?

"I think I'll have to punish you." Raoul had the audacity to grab her clean face with his disgusting hand, but Clara didn't even flinch.

The perfect plan had formulated in her head, and she was now ready to put on the best show there ever was. And so, despite fearing that it might be too late to switch her character, she made her eyes big and watery while batting her thick lashes. She also puckered her lips into a puppy-dog pout.

"Oh please don't punish me! I didn't mean to upset you...Won't you please forgive me?" She spoke in a slightly more feminine voice. She dropped to her knees and rubbed her hands together while gritting her teeth and inwardly cursing.

But sure enough, a look of satisfaction glossed over Raoul's eyes.

"That's better. If you beg and be a good girl, I might give you a treat instead."

Bingo. Clara stifled a smile. And a shudder.

"A treat? What kind've treat?" She blinked "innocently" up at him, knowing exactly what obscene thoughts were running through his mind.

"I'll show you." He yanked her up to her feet before pinning her body to wall with his. She almost screamed in disgust when his lips missed hers and landed on her chin. But she managed to stay in control of herself, and squealed in "delight" instead while pushing him away.

"You rascal! You can't have my first kiss!" She did a spectacular job not throwing up or grimacing while speaking in a tittering, high-pitched voice. She flushed with deep crimson from anger, but to Raoul it looked as if it was from embarrassment.

He grinned, quite pleased with himself.

"Oh now I see. You were only pretending to be a prude because you were shy this whole time! No need to be bashful now, I know you want to kiss me."

Clara almost snorted, but she managed to bat her eyelashes while pouting again.

"But I'm only supposed to kiss my husband, so I'm afraid unless you're willing to be mine I won't let you do anything."

Excitement coursed through Raoul's veins while absolute repugnance coursed through Clara's.

"Then I have no choice but to become your husband then." Raoul pressed his greasy lips on Clara's cheek again, and she was convinced that the immoral imbecile had completely forgotten her earlier words about him being a "dirty debauched dog."

"Oh no, we mustn't!" She lightly pounded her fists into his chest in feign resistance as she had seen some of naughty girls do with their boyfriends at parties. Except she was doing so with genuine resistance.

"Raoul you scoundrel! Stop it!" She let out an air-headed giggle she's heard so many times before. But as she did so, Clara finally had Raoul in the perfect position she wanted to be in. His legs were spread apart enough for Clara to slide a knee in between them.

"Call out my name again my princess." His eyes were closed in bliss as his grimy mitts grasped her face. Because he couldn't see her, Clara allowed herself to smirk, before drawing her knee back.

"Oh Raoul, you are a complete and utter fool." She swung her knee forward and smashed it as hard as she could into his nether regions.

His eyes flew opened and rolled back as all air was knocked out of him. Before he could crumple over or process what happened, Clara flung herself forward and butted her head square onto Raoul's nose. A sickening crack resonated across the room, before Raoul crashed into the ground like dead weight. By the time Clara regained balance and stood tall on her feet, he was unconscious while blood sputtered out from his broken nose. He had already passed out as soon as his man parts had been crushed, but Clara didn't know that.

A knock on the door.

"Sir? Is everything alright?" Clara's heart stopped, but she responded quickly.

"Oh Raoul…Please, we must stop!" She then proceeded to make loud kissing sounds. She then let out a low moan, similar to the one the now unconscious Raoul had made earlier, before making more kissy sounds, before switching back to her girly voice, before making more kissy sounds once again.

"Oh captain you naughty man!" She giggled while knocking a chair over. "Stay back! I'll scream!" She said so in a very singsong way, before giggling once again.

The man outside the door ran away, his footsteps leaving not-so-subtle echoes.

Clara released a quiet sigh of relief, but resisted groaning. She had never giggled so much in one day. But she didn't fret over the issue for too long, because she spotted some of Raoul's clothes on the floor.

Quickly, the lady grabbed her enemy's abandoned coat, hat, and boots and put them on. The over sized jacket conveniently covered her barely-existent womanly curves, and she was able to hide her hair and face quite well underneath the wide-brimmed hat, and the shoes added two inches to her height.

Quietly, she opened and slipped though one of the port windows, and didn't create a large thud or fall when landing outside onto the deck. No one had seen her, and so she made her way towards the escape boats. She spotted one, and stared.

She had no idea how to untie it. She had a general idea on how to row since she's been on several rowboats on lake with a boring bachelor, but of course she was always idly sitting with a frilly parasol protecting her pale skin.

"Captain? What are you doing?" She stiffened and lowly turned around, finding none other than Bruce standing before her. The muscular dimwit tilted his head to the side, and Clara almost sighed in relief when she realized that he couldn't see her face because of the hat. She lowered her voice, knowing that only Bruce would fall for it, and thanked the heavens it was him who discovered her and not someone else.

"Bruce. Do not say anything to the others, but I am going on a secret mission to find our mothers." Clara almost let out a cry of surprise when Raoul's voice came out of her mouth instead of hers but in a slightly deeper tone. If she had the time to, she would've thought about it more and then grow afraid, and wonder if there was dark magic at hand.

"Really captain?" He whispered. Bruce's eyes widened and immediately started brimming with tears, and Clara almost ran over to hug him. Ignoring the prick in her heart, she continued.

"Yes Bruce. If you help me by lowering this boat and saying nothing to the others, I'll find yours first." Clara had to raise a hand to stop Bruce from running over and embracing her. "Quickly now. Quietly now."

Clara ignored the goosebumps on her skin when listening to the strange voice that came out of her mouth. She knew it was quite unnatural to sound exactly like another individual, but did her best to suppress the thought. Because thinking led to panicking, and panicking led to being caught.

"Yessir. Oh, you are so kind!" Clara sat herself inside the rowboat, and the big dummy man did exactly as he was asked to and carefully lowered "the captain" into the waters.

Only once when she was finally started to drift away from the ship did Clara grab the oars and began moving. It took a minute to figure out, but afterwards she was maneuvering the boat like a real sailor. Bruce waved a lacy hankie in the air to bid his "captain" goodbye, before slipping away onto the deck.

Clara frantically rowed and rowed with all her might, past the opening of the cave's "mouth" and making it quite far into the open sea. The waves moved in the same direction she was headed which was ashore, and so even though she exerted less force than normal she traveled at a faster speed and covered more distance than usual. All of her torso and arm muscles ached and screamed from the sudden exertion of force, but Clara continued through grit teeth.

Nobody noticed her slipping away, and nobody noticed the ship approaching from the distance.

* * *

 _My Fantastically Fabulous Reader,_

 _I know this chapter was longish and I apologize. There's probably typos here and there as usual, and I apologize for those too, but I hope the chapter was interesting enough for you to not get angry with me and attack me with pitchforks._

 _The amount of support I am getting from everyone is so incredible! **MusiclasandMordreds** always drops some sweet compliments to really make my day! And **theusualguest** leaves nice reviews that makes me giggle like a madwoman, and **VelvetGoldie** (or writing senpai) always leaves great, long critiques that open my eyes on where I can improve._

 _Because I am now eighteen years of age, there are some important matters and life skills that I am obligated to learn. I have begun Drivers Ed today(July twenty-fourth) and I will finish on August sixteenth. So beause of this terrible but mandatory life circumstance, the chapter updating schedule will be irregular and I apologize in advance for that. But so far everyone has been nothing but kind and wonderful, so I am not too worried that anyone will hunt me down and kill me as I sleep._

 _This story is an experiment for me as I've stated a hundred times, but it's a little way for me to deal with "growing up" as cheesy as it may sound. After all, we all need a little bit of fantasy in our lives, no? I hope to finish this story feeling myself and you very satisfied, and whenever I am slacking off feel free to badger me via private message._

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	7. Chapter 7

**The Ambush**

The Jolly Roger crew had successfully stolen a two-masted ship, similar in size to the one they were now attacking.

Just as the captain had ordered earlier, the men left behind on the stolen sea vessel had already begun shooting canons from afar. Disorder began to reign on the Black Bird. But the others were right under the ship itself: the uninjured group of men were bobbing along with the water, hidden inside the murky shadows of the ship's hull alongside their leader.

Although they were wet, exhausted and sore, they kept their mouths shut. Three more eruptions as three more cannons struck the enemy ship and rocked the water about.

"Now Capt'n?" Smee whispered whilst shivering. Hook's stare never left the top of the edge railing once. After waiting until the sound of many panicked shouts and frantic footsteps entered the deck, the captain finally signaled to his men with his…Hook, to unleash all mayhem.

They threw the bombs up.

The sound of rolling metal, before one went off and triggered the rest like domino. Most of the crew covered their ears and flinched at the ear-splitting roars of the explosions, and many shut their eyes upon seeing the flashes of orange and red flames.

Sounds of screams. Some unfortunate men who had been caught aflame leapt off the rails and into the ocean, where the Jolly Roger crew was waiting.

"Now!" The captain barked, the men obeyed. They threw up their ropes with claws at the end, and immediately began to ascend with ease. But the captain stayed behind in the water as one of his men tied up his right, uninjured arm with the end of one of the ropes. Once he was secured, the men above pulled him out of the water and helped him into the deck.

"Find her and kill anyone who stands in your way." His voice was chillingly calm, and the men knew to scramble away immediately. Smee cut through the rope on the captain's right arm with fumbling, slippery fingers, before tying a loaded pistol on the side of his left one just as he had done before.

Smee noticed blood had started to seep out from the bandages, and even though now the firearm prevented the captain from bending his wrist

"Capt'n, I don't think it's a good idea for you to try and-"

"Shut it Smee. I will not rest until he's been thoroughly gutted open." The bosun closed his mouth and swiftly knotting the rope. Once the old man was done, Hook marched straight towards the Black Bird's biggest room. And as the battle unfolded, the pirate leader slipped through the chaos unnoticed like a silent panther.

James knocked the door down of the Raoul's chambers after giving it two good kick, and then he scanned the room: there was overturned tables and chairs, a messy bed, and an unconscious Raoul, sprawled on the ground. The rat moaned and squirmed about in his fleeting sleep, and he twisted and turned while keeping his legs together, as if the area between it was also had a bloody nose. But the girl was not around, had she escaped? Or killed already?

"Clara." Upon hearing Raoul call out her name, Hook's blood suddenly boiled. Red flashing across his vision, he shot both of Raoul's legs. Two, loud explosions rang across.

The Frenchman screamed while jolting up as he was suddenly jolted back to consciousnesses. and everything that had happened came rushing back the very instant the bullets struck his bone. A thick fog of smoke from gunpowder filled the air, and all Raoul could see was two, floating eyes that flashed red drawing closer. His own widened upon realizing who they belonged to, his breathing hitched. As red sputtered out of his useless legs, all Raoul could do was try and drag himself backwards with his trembling arms.

"Stay back!" His voice grew shrill as panic set in. Raoul winced when he felt the throbbing pain between his legs and in his still-bleeding nose.

Steady thuds of black boots hitting wood echoed like a beating heart. It was slow and of even tempo, unlike Raoul's that thrashed about like a crazed bird against its cage. His stomach sank and he couldn't help the series of shrieks and screeches from escaping his mouth.

"Where is she?" A voice belonging to a demon curdled the Black Bird leader's blood. He completely froze, goosebumps blooming on every surface of his paling skin.

And then the madman was right in front of him, glowering directly at him with menacing, bloodthirsty smirk.

"I don't know!"

Hook used his claw to pull the trigger again, and shot the fool right on the shoulder. A howl of agony before Raoul flopped to the ground.

"Where is she?" His voice remained as calm as before, and he never stopped walking. He was getting closer and closer with each, agonizingly slow step.

 _"Je ne sais pas!"_ Raoul screamed before using his only working arm to try and drag the rest of his body away. He only moved an inch, and hit his head against the wall. Hook didn't believe him, and so he just continued aiming the gun at the man's head.

"What did you do to her? Tell me in detail so that I can return the favor. Did you gut her? Strangle her? Feed her to the crocodiles?" He stopped when he was in front of Raoul, who thrashed and shrieked for the help that wasn't going to come. "Would you like me to tear your eyes out first or castrate you first? Or perhaps I should cut your tongue off first, you don't seem to have use for it since you haven't been answering any of my questions."

He stepped on Raoul's knee, where the bullet wound was still gushing with blood. He leaned all his weight on it, and didn't bat an eyelash as he watched his enemy writhe like a worm being boiled alive.

"No! No please!" Raoul's eyes were almost all white, and his head jerked about so much Hook almost expected it to fly right off. "I'm sorry! She's fine! I didn't do anything!"

James went on one knee. He was eye-level with the sniffling man who rambled unintelligible words which resembled pleas for mercy.

"Where is she? She couldn't have just disappeared." He as so close Raoul felt his hot breaths upon his skin. He squeaked.

"I don't know! _Vraiment!_ I woke up and she was gone! Really! Please!" At this point, the defeated pirate was sobbing so hard he couldn't see the demon red gaze of his long-time enemy anymore.

"Don't lie to me Raoul, I already know all about your immoral ways. You probably used and then threw her overboard when you were done. You are a disgusting, worthless piece of scum that even the beasts won't take." He brushed some of Raoul's hair back with his steel talon. "But I'll still be merciful and give you a quick death. Send my regards to the Devil."

Hook drew his arm back, but Raoul screeched while smashing his head into the floor again and again but not moving an inch.

"No! I didn't! I didn't do anything! She outsmarted me! No! She tricked me! Please! I want to live!" The metal hook descended, and all strength left Raoul who shut his eyes waiting for a burst of searing pain. But it slammed next to the ground, next to his head.

The final blow never came.

He peeked open one eye, only to find Hook staring right back at him. His icy glare completely froze Raoul over.

"Never show your filthy face again."

And then the captain suddenly stood and left the room, leaving a cold breeze and Raoul shuddering on the ground.

* * *

On the beach, there was a rowboat that had been washed ashore. The waves continued lapping against the sand and had erased most of the boot imprints a certain young lady had left behind. There was also an abandoned hat lying not too far from the abandoned sea vessel where the beach ended the wall of a thick forest began.

And from the thick forest, came many strange, eerie cries. The shrieks of unidentifiable birds and moans sounding similar to dying men echoed across the air, and the haunting melody of the wild only grew louder as the sun set lower. And amongst the dark creatures lurking within the Neverwood shadows, was a ginger outsider, who tromped across the mossy floor.

Clara was panting and a sticky layer of sweat covered her from head to toe. All around her was nothing but green, green, some brown, and more green for miles and miles. She could barely make out the fading sky covered with trees above her, and she could no longer tell which way was forwards, backwards, left or right. Leaves whipped at her face, and spider webs landed in her mouth. All she could do as swat them away and keep going forward.

Little did she know that the path she had been travelling by was more of a curve, and that she had been walking in circles the whole time.

"Oh pickled prunes... I should've stolen a map too." Her mouth and throat were completely dry, and so her voice resembled an old hag's. As she continued clambering about like drunken giant, she failed to notice a small, golden light trailing behind her.

It was crouched behind the many twigs and leaves of the branches. The glittering being had iridescent wings, and it took on the form of a lovely blonde. Her blue eyes followed the stumbling human she had come across a few minutes ago, and the more the tiny creature stared, the more familiar the strange woman seemed. The outsider was a ghostly image wavering between a boy she still loved, and another woman she still hated.

Tinkerbell frowned, and darted to another branch closer to the lost traveler.

"Ouch!" Clara jerked her hand away from the thorn she had pricked herself on. "Bloody potatoes! That hurt!"

The pointed ears of the fairy perked upon hearing the girl's voice. Although the pixie was more reckless than the others, she was still cautious around humans like the rest of the Faye. She didn't dare show herself, but she mustered up all the courage she had in her small body to call out to the woman.

The sound of twinkling of bells rang across the air.

Clara froze. And then she frowned. She thought she had heard a voice calling out to her, but how could that be? Was it Raoul and his men?

She turned around. There was nothing but the same old scenery of trees and bushes. After staring hard and scanning for anything out of the ordinary and finding nothing, Clara shrugged to herself and turned back around again.

But before she could continue on her way, she heard it again.

 _Ugly girl, who are you?_ It was a woman's voice.

Clara's heart nearly burst out of her ribcage. Inhaling a sharp breath, she let out a shrill scream that echoed across the forest and caused several birds to fly away from their hiding places within the branches.

She sprinted forward, wildly thrashing her arms to she aside branches, and she didn't stop even when she was whipped across the face with twigs.

 _Wait! Come back!_ The voice said again.

"Blast it! Begone phantom! I'm sorry for intruding your forest I promise I'll leave!" Her foot got caught on a branch, and her body was flung forward. She yelped, and braced herself for a painful crash. She instead found her body being lurched all the way up. Her eyes flung open and she screamed again.

The world was flipped over and bobbing up and down, up and down and side to side. Her coat fell from her form, and her blouse flew up to the top of her head and exposed her in the most undignified manner. She quickly covered herself, and her eyes frantically darted about and tried to make sense of the spinning, lurching, inverted world that was nothing more but a blur.

As the rope her ankle hung front swayed less and less, Clara continued holding her blouse to protect her modesty, and she was finally able to register what exactly had happened: she had stepped into an animal trap.

There was a rustle from the bushes. Clara's heart jolted again, but this time she tried calming her breathing.

"Whoever you are, please don't eat me. I'm nothing but skin and bones." Her voice was a hoarse whisper. Another rustle. Something moved again.

Squinting ahead and focusing hard into the dark, where the rustling sound had come from. She could make out small, dirty heads peeking out from the bushes. Her eyebrows shot up as she realized that she was staring into the eyes of something. No, someone. Many someones.

Children.

* * *

 _My Wonderfully Wonderful Readers,_

 _I am quite pleased to see that most of the public found the previous chapter to be acceptable! I hope that I will be able to continue on creating chapters that surprise you a little, because I personally find predictable stories to be quite dull and well...Predictable._

 _A lot has happened (like getting my braces off and driving a metal vehicle for the first time ever) and so I didn't have time to edit this chapter. Originally, it was going to be a short one, ending with Hook leaving Raoul. But I decided that it would be best to prolong the chapter since it had been a while since my last update, and I apologize for that. The scene of Clara in the forest was supposed to be a longer, separate chapter of its own, but I decided last minute that I should merge it with this chapter._

 _I hope my rushed writing wasn't too terrible and that it wasn't too akin to a first draft, and as always I hope it was interesting enough._

 _Thank you lovely Miss. **MusicalsandMordreds** , writing senpai ( **VelvetGoldie** ) and the kind soul: **theusualguest.**_

 _-StrangelyTalkativeSoul_


	8. Chapter 8

**Lost**

There were five boys standing in front of her.

Boys who didn't move, and who all resembled frightened animals. Their clothes were made of patches of rags, animal hides, and leaves covering only the necessary parts, and the rest of their bodies were covered with dirt and paint. Little by little, the filthy youths inched closer and closer to what their trap had captured like moths drawn to light, and all Clara could do stare back at them.

She still dangled upside down like fresh meat at a butcher's shop.

"Can we eat it?" A freckled boy no more than five spoke, finally breaking the heavy silence. A twinkling of bells and a flash of light appeared out of nowhere, and everyone's head turned towards it.

 _"It's a woman you idiots!"_

"Hey, don't call us idiots you stupid bug!" A dark-skinned boy about ten glared at the fairy while crossing his arms. He was the tallest out of the bunch, and he was around the age of ten.

"Yeah you stupid bug." Freckles imitated the older boy's pose and pout.

"A woman?" Twins with frightfully yellow eyes snapped their heads back at Clara once more. They reminded her of owls.

"She's an adult?" An Asian boy stepped forward. He was the second oldest, and he wore a serious expression.

"Adults are bad." Said one twin again.

"Peter said so." The other retorted. Clara's ears perked upon hearing the name but said nothing.

"Peter also said adults were our worst enemies." Both the twins spoke in unison this time.

"That's right. He did say that." Darkie growled while reaching for his knife, his lips curled into a snarl.

Clara's blood froze, and her entire body stiffened. But then Tinkerbell almost flew into her nose.

 _"Hey you! Why did you ignore me? I hate being ignored!"_ The yellow glow of the flickered to orange, and Clara had to squint to avoid being blinded.

"Well I'm sorry! But I was terribly frightened! I thought you were an apparition of sorts!"

 _"How dare you compare me to such vile things? I am much prettier!"_

"Well of course you are! My apologies...Are you Miss. Tinkerbell?"

Upon hearing her name, the sprite calmed.

 _"Yes. I am."_

"Nice to meet you Miss. Bell, I'm Clara. May I ask why you were pursuing me?" Her heart raced, and if she was standing and not on the brink of fainting from exhaustion, she would have hardly been able to contain a mad grin. How many times has she daydreamed about talking to a fairy as a child?

 _"I was chasing you because...Because..."_ The pixie frowned. Why had she followed this hideous human? This clambering giant who disrupted all of the forest?

Clara waited for the fairy's response, completely haven forgotten about the other company.

The Lost Boys were at a loss for words: after Peter had left they were the only ones who understood the Faye. They stood while staring and blinking at each other and back at the girl, and they too strained their ears for their bean-sized friend's response. At least, the older two who actually understood her did.

 _"I remember now! It was because you reminded me of someone!_ "

Everyone listened. And the strangeness of the situation soon made everyone forget to wonder about how on earth the girl could even comprehend the fairy.

 _"You look a lot like...Like..."_ Tink flew over to study the girl. But she didn't need to finish her sentence, because the two older co-leaders finally noticed how familiar Clara's eyes were to someone else's.

"What's she saying?" The younger boys, Freckles and the twins whispered to the Asian one. He shushed them, and they clamped their mouths shut.

"Like...Peter?" Clara finished the sprite's thought for her. The lads all leaned in.

"Peter?" Thier eyes went wide.

"You know Peter?"

"How do you know him?"

"Have you seen him?"

"Do you know where he is?"

More and more questions sputtered out of the orphan's mouths, and Clara could no longer tell who was speaking, and her head was growing quite dizzy from being upside down for so long. But all their voices were blocked out when the shrill, bell-like cries of Tink rang across the air.

 _"Speak! Answer! Explain!"_

Clara flinched, but did as she was asked.

"Of course, I'd love to explain everything. But first um...Is it possible to free me from these ropes?" Clara smiled sheepishly, and after a nod from the pixie, Freckles pulled out his small dagger. In one, swift motion, he cut her free and she landed on the floor in a heap. As she lay groaning, everyone crowded around her and formed a circle. When Clara opened her eyes, all she could see was their seemingly floating heads above her.

"Do you know Peter?" The Asian boy asked.

She nodded.

"Really?" Freckles the youngest.

"Where is he?" Said the first clone.

"Is he alive?" Asked the other.

"Is he ever coming back?" Freckles again. "How come he's never visited us before?"

All of their gazes sparkled with anticipation, and even Tinkerbell fell into silence and waited for Clara's response. The pressure of knowing what she said next could do to them made Clara gulp. Her palms grew sweaty, and she slowly sat up. The lads all went to their knees so they were eye-level with her again, and Clara had to avert her gaze to the mossy floor. But still, all she could see was the hopeful pairs of eyes all staring at her and her alone from her peripheral vision.

She cleared her throat and swallowed.

"Well, some... Complicated things have happened. There were some...Circumstances that prevented him from returning."

"What kind of circumstances?"

"Are there pirates in London too?"

"Oh! So Peter was busy fighting off new enemies? Is that it?" The group burst into excited chatter. A bright grin lit every one of their fist-sized faces, and jumbled words all merged into one buzz of noise. And all Clara could gather from the jumble of conversation was how wonderful Peter was, how brave and kind and noble of a hero he was.

The more Clara studied at the boys, the boy she realized how malnourished they all were. They were riddled with bruises and scratches, and she could clearly see their ribcages underneath damaged skin.

"Peter..." Clara paused, and soon everything fell quiet again. "Peter did go on an adventure, the biggest one of all."

"Really?

"What was it?"

"Was it dangerous?"

"How come he didn't take us along?

"Was he-"

"He grew up." Clara held her breath and waited for their reaction. At first there was none. They all stared at her and blinked. And slowly, her statement finally sunk in.

Silence suffocated the air for a couple moments.

"What?"

"Peter..."

"He..."

"He grew up?"

A pang pierced through Clara's heart, but she swallowed and mustered up her courage to answer them. And dash all their hopes.

"Yes. He married and...I am his daughter."

Freckles and the twins teared up. The two older ones had dark rage boiling in theirs, but everyone still looked at her.

"You're lying." Said Darkie. Before Clara could defend herself, the second oldest boy commented too.

"You don't know Peter after all!" The Asian boy glared daggers into her. The corners of her mouth fell. She averted her gaze, and the bunch couldn't help but notice her bone structure that was an aching reminder of someone else.

"Perhaps...But I still am his daughter. That is something I cannot change."

All was quiet once more for a brief moment, before the sprite spoke once again. Her glow turned grayish blue, and she sunk a bit so that she was closer to the ground.

 _"You are his daughter."_ She parroted Clara, which earned her a nod.

The group continued studying the girl, and there was no denial that her eyes were strikingly identical to their missing leader.

"Well, she does look a lot like him." A twin.

"She has his eyes." The other.

 _"He did forget his promise after all."_ Despair overflowed from the tiny creature's minuscule heart, and she was overcome by the sudden wave of emotion. Moisture gleaming in her eyes, she let out the smallest of sobs before darting away into the forest, leaving a trail of icy sparkles behind her. Unlike Freckles and the twins, but the pair of leaders didn't tear their glares away from Clara.

"Can you even crow? Can you even use a sword?" Darkie growled.

"She's far too old and weak." The second oldest.

Clara was shaking to her very core. She opened and shut her mouth repeatedly, trying to form the sentences but not being able to find her voice. After a couple seconds of clearing her throat, she managed to speak up again much louder than she intended it to be.

"Come now! It's terribly rude to talk to someone like that! And I am quite young in fact! I'm only twenty-four! You ought to be punished for such rudeness!"

"What are you, our mother?" Darkie scoffed at Clara, whose face was growing redder by the millisecond.

"We don't have mothers." Said one of the owl-eyed twins.

"We don't want one." Finished the other.

"Mothers are bad." Freckles.

"Peter said so." The Toddler.

"No, they are not! Bedsides, didn't you all have a mother named Wendy?"

Upon hearing the name, a dark shadow was cast over their features. Their eyes grew blank, and the corners of their lips all turned slightly downwards.

"Oh yes, we've heard of her."

"She's the terrible monster who took Peter away from us."

Something inside Clara snapped, and a heat suddenly coursed through her blood as she bolted upright to her full height. She glowered down at the imps half her size, and painted on the nastiest scowl she could.

"How dare you speak of her like that?! Didn't she treat you with kindness and read you stories? Didn't she tuck you into bed and kiss you goodnight?" A little, throbbing ache gripped the little space in Clara's heart. The empty space that had always been there since birth. The empty spot that had been meant for Wendy to fill.

"Well that's what Tinkerbell said."

"And we don't remember."

"It was too long ago."

"And why are you so angry?"

"Because Wendy was my mother!"

Silence reigned the air once again. It was suffocating, and all Clara could do was just her chin out while standing straighter. The spell was broken when Darkie talked again, his inky eyes glistening like a savage wolf's.

"Are you saying that Peter really chose that woman over us?" He and the second oldest wore identical expressions, except the Asian boy held better composure.

Clara found herself opening and closing her mouth again, but this time she wasn't able to answer.

"Are you saying that Peter has forgotten us?" Freckles spoke in a trembling voice as tears threatened to fall from his watery eyes. He looked like a small china doll, and one small push would completely undo him. Clara swallowed a lump in her throat while bowing her head down again.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"You're not his daughter." The two twins growled in a feral manner. Clara's head whipped up again, and she narrowed her eyes.

"I am."

"Prove it." Said one.

"Show us proof." Said the other.

"What... What kind of proof?" Clara blinked, and stiffened when she realized all of the boy's faces had suddenly grown stone-cold. The detachment inside their gazes reminded Clara of the mugshots she had seen in the newspapers of criminals. Or even notorious killers.

"Fly." Darkie said in a lowered voice.

"Yeah! Only Peter could do that!" The twins.

"Didn't Peter ever teach you guys how to?" A tight feeling settled in her stomach, and she desperately struggled to search in her brain the secret to flight. The diary never had mentioned it either, because Mrs. Banning herself had forgotten the secret as well. And of course, her father "Peter" had never told her how to.

"We can't remember." Said the second oldest.

But I'm afraid I don't know how to fly either..." Clara gulped, not liking how the ensemble had all taken a step forward without her noticing.

"If you really are who you say you are, then you can do it too!" The youngest.

"I have an idea! Why don't we all throw her off the cliff? Then she'll most definitely have to fly, right?" The oldest. Chills crawled down Clara's body and she completely froze.

"Yeah!" All of the sudden, they had pounced onto her. She couldn't even scream or start struggling because they all hoisted and carried her over their heads before she could. As if she was just another animal they had caught.

"Fly! Fly! Fly! Fly! Fly!" They shouted in unison in their high-pitched voices while they began walking.

"No! No wait!" She wildly thrashed about, but their tiny hands gripped her limbs with a brute strength mirroring that of the Black Bird pirates who had captured her earlier. All of their hands were so rough and calloused from years of climbing trees and yielding weapons. Blood and grime sat underneath their untrimmed claws, and Clara caught glimpses of their white fangs as they continued chanting.

"Fly! Fly! Fly! Fly! Fly!"

"Don't throw me over I can't fly! I'll fall and die! Stop! Put me down!" She could now see that they were marching over to a cliff. Every part of her shook as if she was having seizure, and she screamed like a possessed banshee while increasing her efforts to struggle but to no avail.

"No! No wait! Stop!"

"Fly! Fly! Fly! Fly! Fly!"

"Please! I don't know how!"

"Fly! Fly! Fly! Fly! Fly!" They were inching closer and closer to edge, and Clara could make out a black abyss. A deep pit that fell forever into nothingness, and its jaws were open for her.

Ready and waiting.

"No! No! Please! Please! No!" Clara's eyes widened and her stomach dropped.

"Fly! Fly! Fly! Fly! Fly!" The children stopped, they were now on the verge.

"Alright. On the count of three!" Said one.

"One!"

A shrill, hysterical shriek rang across the air, and only after it echoed for some time did Clara recognize it as her own. She shut her eyes and screamed more incomprehensible begs for mercy.

"Two!"

A spike of mania. Clara yelled and howled to the point her throat burned and throbbed with pain. She wildly lurched her body side to side, kicked and clawed and tossed and turned. She begged and begged for them to stop while sobbing uncontrollably.

And suddenly she was dropped.

Everything slowed down and stopped, but before a final cry of terror could escape from her throat, she hit the ground. Much sooner than she thought, in fact. It took a minute for her to realize that she could still see the bare feet of all the orphans, as well as the dust settling down all around her. She finally gathered that she was lying near where the cliff ended, and that she had not gone over. She finally processed that she was still alive.

"See? You were lying." Said one of them. She wasn't looking so she couldn't tell who. All she could see was their stick legs.

"Because all grown-ups lie. And lying is bad."

"Grown-ups are bad."

Clara finally looked at her assailants, still struggling to hold herself together. The children were all staring down at her with neutral masks.

"You could've killed me!" Still violently quivering, Clara clenched her fists and glared. But they didn't even twitch.

"So?"

Goosebumps crawled all across Clara's skin.

"We kill adults all the time."

"You should be grateful that we didn't kill you."

"You deserved to be killed because you lied, but we didn't because we're hero's."

They all said it so nonchalantly. As if they were discussing the weather. And all Clara could do was stare at them, wide-eyed and quivering. After a moment, the boys realized that she would no longer say anything, for she was too terrified. They turned around and began walking away.

"Peter was right. Women are too annoying."

"And boring."

"And lame."

"Grown-ups are dumb." They disappeared into the forest, leaving Clara shivering on the freezing ground.

Leaving her even more lost and confused than before.

* * *

 _My Marvelously Dazzling Readers,_

 _I hope this chapter did not contain too many errors and that it wasn't too confusing. I was rushing myself to post it so that you would all have something to read, while simultaneously finishing up the two chapters following this one. I shall be posting the next two chapters at the same time since both are on a little bit on the shorter side, and there might be a gap in the updating afterwards because of something called reality._

 _Please feel free to criticize me on what could've been better with this chapter, and thank you **theusualguest** , **MusicalsandMordreds** , and **VelvetGoldie** for always being so fantastically sweet to me and lifting my spirits. You are all superbly kind souls who motivate me to work hard on this story and fight against writer's block. You have no idea how much your reviews make me grin like the joker, and they are usually my happy thoughts during something called consciousness._

 _Thank you all again,_

 _-StrangleySilentSoul_


	9. Chapter 9

**Found**

Hook cursed under his breath.

They had been searching the forest for hours now, but there was no sign of the girl. Some of the Black Bird pirates joined the Jolly Roger's crew, one of them being none other than Bruce. Unlike the other men, he was searching fervently for the missing ginger. In fact, he himself was the one who had told the captain that he had assisted in her stealing away on one of the rowboats.

Hook could tell that his injured men were growing even more weary after the day's battles, and knew that they would faint from fatigue very soon.

He sighed.

"Smee." The man popped up from of nowhere.

"Aye Capt'n?"

"Tell them to search for a few more minutes. If they find nothing, we'll continue tomorrow."

"Aye." The bosun repeated his master's orders, and Hook whirled around on his heel and marched to no direction in particular.

He was fuming. He couldn't control the twitch at the corner of his mouth or the uncomfortable, burning sensation deep inside the pit of his stomach. He couldn't comprehend why he was so tense and enraged at the thought of her shivering and afraid somewhere. And he also didn't understand why he shuddered at the thought of her limp in between the jaws of a monster of some sort. The girl had been the sole thing occupying his mind for the whole day. Why that was, Hook couldn't quite explain himself. He also couldn't explain the anxiety at the thought of her being harmed. After all, it didn't bring Hook much merit to keep her around: it brought him more trouble. He had no good reason to look for her, and he had no reason to find her again.

And yet here he was, expending his men's energy and his own.

He stopped walking and sighed.

Yes, he had indeed gone mad. Too many years spent drinking rum had taken a toll upon him. Perhaps his brain was finally failing and spiraling out of control. Yes, that was only logical explanation there was to the strange feelings that had overcome him. Hook repeated this to himself over and over again until he convinced himself that this indeed was the reason. Or perhaps it was just his old, aristocratic pride at work. After all, it would be extremely bad form to allow a defenseless woman, who was also his guest, fall into harm's way because of his negligence. Yes, this was another reason.

Before he could muse to himself anymore, Hook caught the sound of a weak cry that sliced through the air. James whipped his head towards the direction of the sound. At first, he thought it was the whine of a kitten. It was coming from up ahead.

He took step forward, and his boot made a soft rustle. He heard it again, and realized that it was a sob. A girl's sob. Another step. And another, and another. The cries grew louder, and Hook's eyes kept searching and searching for the owner of the voice. He was hidden by the trees and shadows, which enabled him to move across the forest floor undetected. He inched closer towards the source of the sound, and didn't stop until he could see the small clearing he had first seen Wendy many years before. But instead of seeing the blue-eyed Darling, he found someone else in her place.

Clara.

She sat on the middle of the ground amongst the flowers, and her form was illuminated by the pale, blue moonlight. She was curled up into a little ball of despair, with her tangled head of hair buried deep into her knees and her arms coiled tight around herself. Violent trembling's racked across her frail little body, which was unharmed other than a few cuts and bruises.

It was hard to believe that the frightened girl was the same one who had outsmarted Raoul and escaped from captivity. It was hard to believe the crying child was also the prying woman from a day ago who didn't seem to fear anything at all. Not even him.

Hook remembered that in this exact place long ago, a brightly smiling Wendy had danced with Pan under the stars with the fairies. And he recalled how the boy had smiled right back at her as they effortlessly floated together. How lost they were within one another, and how they had completely forgotten about everything else.

And after reflecting on it a little more, Hook realized that it was the first moment that Pan had felt there was more to life than repeating the same boyish adventures over and over and over again. That outside of Neverland, there was something that not even the Lost Boys, Indians or pirates could never give him. And then he soon left as the happiest man, who presumably never had to worry about loneliness ever again.

And yet there sat his daughter, shedding tears from what Hook assumed to be exhaustion and terror.

"Miss. Clara?" He called out to her before he could stop himself. The girl whipped her head around. She blinked while squinting into the darkness, but Hook was sure she spotted his bleary silhouette.

"Captain?" She sniffed. "Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me." He stepped away from the shadows and into the moonlight.

Once she was able to see his crystal-blue eyes staring at her, she let out a choked sound of happiness. Clumsily rising to her feet, and she charged over and threw her arms around his neck. Hook had no time to process what was going on until the sweaty, filthy girl was clinging to him as she began bawling as loud as a newborn baby right into his ear.

"Thank goodness you've found me! I thought I was going to be lost here forever and ever!" Breaking into another hysterical sob, Clara buried her face into the captain's shoulder and didn't seem to care that he still damp with seawater. And Hook just stood there while trying to look at her from his peripheral vision. All he could catch was a glimpse of her frizzy head of hair, and he could feel her torso that heaved with unstoppable whimpers.

She was crying on him. Him, as in James Hook.

Completely dumbfounded and lacking both hands, all he could do was just let the girl cry and cry until there was no more tears to shed, which didn't take very long at all. Soon, Clara was calm and sniffling but still holding onto him for dear life. Now the captain was aware that the young lady was panicked and would have thrown herself at anyone, but he was still quite unsettled by the odd situation he found himself in.

"I've had a dreadful time in this forest. And I thought I was the most miserable in ballrooms." She grumbled like a displeased five-year-old before stepping back and rubbing her eyes. She still did not seem to notice that the space between the two was still nonexistent. She rested her cheek on his chest for comfort, as if he was an over-sized teddy bear of sorts and forgetting who exactly he was.

Hook cleared his throat.

"Are you hurt at all?" He asked despite seeing that she was fine. After all, she had practically flew over to him and her arms were holding him with a surprising amount of brute strength.

"No, I'm alright. A little cold." And that's when Clara spotted his left wrist wrapped with bloody bandages. "Oh dear!"

She loosened her grip on the captain and then gently grabbed onto the captain's arm, and then positioned it so she was eye-level with his wound.

"Oh no! You're hurt!" She scrutinized the wrist, careful not to touch it or move to fast, and trying her hardest to stay as still as she could. James made no attempts to struggle, mostly because he was just too tired to.

"It just a fracture my dear. It'll take around eight weeks to heal, but it'll be fine." Hook smiled through gritted teeth, even though he thought otherwise. He realized that that he would have to have Smee help him with everything, now that his only hand was rendered useless. Even more useless than his other one, which wasn't even a hand.

"You can't be walking with such an injury! You should know better than to exert yourself when you're hurt! You need to rest starting from right now until you heal!" She sounded like a nagging mother. And Hook was much too exhausted to deal with her ramblings. The effects of the day's battles and his throbbing wrist had taken a toll on his body, and by each passing second all Hook wanted to do was curl up on his big, comfortable bed back on the Jolly Roger.

"Then let us return to the ship. There'll be a nice fire and some food for you there." As soon as he said that, her stomach rumbled and grumbled like a thunderstorm. Her cheeks flushed red, and she dropped her gaze to the leafy ground. Her voice grew small once again.

"I think I'll like that very much." She looked so much like a starving beggar, that Hook couldn't help but laugh at her. And in that moment, it was as if the day's events hadn't happened at all.

Clara noticed his pleasant expression and found herself smiling as well, and she couldn't help but notice how much younger he looked when he laughed.

"Well..." He cleared his throat for the umpteenth time in the short five minutes of their reunion, before trying to force his face back into a neutral expression. "How did you like your first day in Neverland?"

She blinked, before chuckling.

"Has it really been just a day?"

"Yes my dear."

A moment of silence. Clara seemed to stare into the distance at nothing in particular. Her eyes grew glassy, and her expression blank as she reflected on all that had happened.

"What's troubling you?"

"Neverland isn't like how I imagined it to be at all."

Her comment earned her a wry laugh from the captain.

"Yes, there must be plenty of things your mother failed to notice in her short time here."

Clara didn't seem to hear his snide retort however. It unsettled Hook how melancholy her demeanor had become, and yet he couldn't decipher what she was thinking.

"And there are plenty of things she had failed to do in London as well." Clara said this more to herself, but before Hook could register her words she turned back to him while smiling. Her eyes sparkled brighter than the stars, and her grin caught Hook off guard because it was meant for him.

"I'd like to go home now."

Hook blinked at her.

"Home? As in England? Already?"

"Of course not! Home as in the ship. Well, I think it's still my temporary home... I'm assuming your offer of me becoming a pirate still stands?" Clara took Hook's silence as a yes, and so she beamed. "Perfect. But since you're injured I'm fine waiting until you're all healed. But before then, I will refuse to leave your side and I'll try my very best to help you out with whatever I can. It's unfair for you to make poor old Smee do everything for you."

With that, she marched past a still speechless Hook.

"Speaking of the old man, where is he and the others? Are they over there?"

She walked off in the exact opposite direction of where his crew was, but all he could only turn stare at her, wondering once again what he had gotten himself into.


	10. Chapter 10

**Unforgotten**

It was snowing back in London.

The Banning Mansion had been overflowing with melodious music and lit up with every chandelier just days beforehand. There had been porcelain-like ladies with silk evening gowns and dapper gentlemen to match. Laughter and small talk had poured out from the tall windows and could have been heard all down Oakwood street.

But now it was deathly quiet and white.

A lone policeman on a horse traveled down the street, and stopped right in front of the silent residence. He sighed after a long day's search, and slid off his stallion. He trudged up the frozen steps and rang the doorbell, his heart growing heavier by the second upon knowing the news he would have to deliver. The sound of footsteps, before the one of the double doors swung open.

"Good evening, Officer Williams." The banker was still dressed in his work suit, and he still appeared quite clean and pristine. He stood tall and proud while wearing an impassive mask. But and the bags under his green eyes were still visible and even darker than ever.

The policeman released a heavy sigh while hanging his head low.

"I'm sorry sir."

"Ah...I see. Nothing today as well?"

"Yes. I apologize once again."

It was barely noticeable, but the rich man's jaw clenched tightly, as if to restrain himself from saying something less than polite.

"We've searched everywhere, and we had to stop the search early because of the weather. I promise tomorrow we will-"

"Thank you for your hard work. It is much appreciated." The calm widower gave a curt nod towards the gentlemen while beginning to slowly close the door. "I'm sure you're in much need of rest after such a long day. I bid you goodnight, and I hope you are well-rested."

"Goodnight Mr. Banning. Don't worry, we'll find her."

"Please have a safe journey home." Peter Banning gave a brief smile that didn't reach anywhere else, before closing the door all the way. And once he had shut out his visitor and the cold winter wind, he allowed himself to release an inaudible sigh before heading to his bedroom.

Three days. It had been three days. The police suspected it to be a kidnapping. But deep down, he knew that she had walked away from him out of her own free choice. But even still, how on earth could a young lady just disappear? But then Peter remembered that another woman too had vanished from him forever years before. A lovely woman with the eyes of forget-me-not blue, who always haunted him no matter how much alcohol he drowned himself in.

And now a pair of emerald eyes joined the sapphire ones.

Peter blinked upon hearing the loud sound of shattering glass, and upon seeing the blots of red on his skin. He had slammed an empty glass cup down on the night table next to his bed, and now his fingers were bleeding. And he had also somehow managed to walk all the way up the stairs, enter his chambers, and pour himself a bottle of hard liquor before downing a whole cup. But Peter had absolutely no recollection of doing so, and it was if his body had automatically moved on its own without the conscious brain.

But for a moment, all Mr. Banning did was stare at the crimson liquid leaving his body, and he even held up his injured hand to the light. It illuminated the droplets from behind, creating a halo of sorts around it. As Peter scrutinized the red drops, a ghostly image of similarly colored eyes flashed across his memory.

He flinched and jerked back a bit, and clutched his head.

 _"Pan."_ A chilling voice that could cut steel whispered across his memory. But the throbbing migraine then disappeared as soon as it came, and the gentleman was soon sitting upright once again. He often had strange visions, and he always blamed it on the alcohol as any adult would. Why had he been drinking again? Oh yes. It was to forget about the two women in his life who had both left him.

But now they had been unforgotten once again.

Banning reached for the open bottle to prevent himself from unforgetting more things, and drank straight out from it. He left the broken pieces of glass on the table, and he didn't bother treating his cuts. After gulping down all of the burning liquid, Peter sat down onto his bed and kicked off his shoes. His body already grew drowsy from the depressant, and his eyelids were already too heavy to keep open.

He thought about work the next morning before easily drifting off to sleep.

* * *

 _My Delightful Readers,_

 _I hope the update of these next to chapters were speedy enough for you, and thank you **VelvetGoldie** , **theusualguest** , and **MusicalsandMordreds** for always reviewing every chapter! I could go on and on and shower compliments for paragraphs, but then they'd be longer than the actual story itself ahaha. I am currently in the process of writing the next chapters and planning specifically what happens, and so the next chapter's update will take longer than these have and I apologize for that. Thank you all so much for your follows, reviews and favorites once again, and I hope you all have a lovely day!_

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	11. Chapter 11

**Help**

When Clara woke up, she found herself in the same hammock as the morning before.

And it was like she had gone back in time, and that she had never even left in the first place. But memories of all the events that had occurred came rushing back to her like a tsunami. She recalled the attack, tricking Raoul, and returning to the ship after getting lost inside the Neverwoods. During dinner, she had met Bruce again who revealed to her that he and other Black Bird pirates had sworn their allegiance to the captain and abandoned former leader. And like how she wanted to earlier, she was able to give him a heartfelt apology and a hug. Her actions ended with Bruce being in tears and holding her back tightly.

Most of the others had kept their distance from her and the mountain of a man, and she knew it was because of the old myth of women bringing bad luck. But she had paid them no mind and stuffed her stomach with an ungodly amount of food, before bidding everyone goodnight and falling asleep immediately.

And then Clara remembered how Hook had found in the forest. He had searched for her. Looked for her. She didn't know the real reasons why, but he had come for her. She couldn't believe it until his deep eyes of forget-me-not blue were staring right into hers, and filled her with a foreign emotion that she could not name. Just like at the time of the ball, he had miraculously appeared out of nowhere right when she had sunk into the deepest pits of despair.

He had appeared, right when she needed a bright fire during the frightfully dark and cold night.

Thinking of him washed a strange tingling sensation across her, and her heart started to flutter. Her breathing hitched and her cheeks grew warm, and once she started thinking of him she couldn't stop. She could've been able to stay in her hammock forever, replaying the scene of him laughing or of the exact moment of him finding her over and over again, but it was now morning.

And that meant it was time to get up.

The girl couldn't stop herself from grinning and giggling. She was in a pirate's ship! She had talked to fairies! She had almost died! And yet she hadn't, and she had escaped the dangerous ordeals unscathed!

So she rose, got dressed, and then exited her small residence all while whistling a merry tune.

The stars were still shining, and at first, Clara thought that there was no one else on deck. But on closer inspection, she spied Mr. Smee emerging from the crew's sleeping quarters from down below. Immediately, Clara began wildly waving. "Mr. Smee!"

The sailor jumped while emitting a choking type of sound, but he calmed when he spotted the young lady flailing at him.

"Good...Good morrow miss." He started walking over to her, and she met him halfway.

"How are you?"

The bosun blinked in surprise. He couldn't remember the last time somebody asked him that question while smiling so pleasantly.

"I'm quite well, thank you."

"Are you about to see the captain? May I come?"

The image of herd with a certain ruthless ruler made Smee completely freeze, and his grandfatherly instincts took full control.

"I think I'll have to wake him a little bit later. He's still sleeping at the moment."

"But does he not have duties as well?"

"He does, but he's pushed himself to the very limit last night, so he needs some rest."

"Oh." The girl's shoulders slumped. Smee raised an eyebrow and wondered why she was so eager to meet him again, but he kept the question to himself before asking a different one.

"Why are ye up so early?"

She beamed.

"I want to be of help to him! I've been invited to become a member of this crew, and I'd like to learn as much as I can and do as much as I can. Would I be the new cabin Boy? Or...Girl?"

"Er...I suppose so..."

"I know I'll be more of servant, and servants are supposed to be helpful. So when exactly is the soonest you will wake the captain?"

Cold sweat broke across Smee upon envisioning the girl unintentionally scaring the man of topic as he slept, and the horrific scene ending with Clara limp on the floor with a bullet to her chest. After all, Hook always slept with a gun. And yesterday had been no exception.

"How about ye help me with my boatswain duties? Cabin girls also helps other authority figures too." He sputtered the sentence much faster than he intended. But her expression immediately brightened.

"Oh I would like that very much!" She almost immediately had forgotten about her earlier motive, but Smee paid no mind. The elder scuffled along his way, and Clara caught up to the waddling elder with ease.

As he started stopping by and studying various parts of the deck, he described in detail his duties of supervising and maintaining the rigs, anchors, the work of the other men, and so much more. All that he said entered through one of Clara's ears and exited through the other. But even though she couldn't understand seventy percent of the nautical terms coming from the seaman, but she continued giving him all her attention. Smee succeeded in distracting the girl, all the while completing the task of assessing the Jolly Roger's condition and the rest of the damages.

And keeping Clara as far away as possible from the captain's chambers.

But morning stretched into afternoon, and afternoon soon stretched into evening with Clara unaware of the passing time, and Smee being too aware. But Smee knew he could now no longer keep from going to their leader, because the sun had started to set and the two had finished dinner.

Not once had the the man's wound been tended to, and not once had he eaten. Or even woken.

"Oh my, it's already so late." Clara blinked, before glancing in the direction of the biggest and most lavish part of the ship.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, Smee ordered the cook to start preparing something for the infamous leader, before visiting the Surgeon's room to retrieve a box of medical supplies. And unsurprisingly, Clara was hot at his heels. Along the way, she started excitedly rambling again, unaware of how her heart started fluttering once again.

"Were you a doctor Mr. Smee? You seem quite knowledgeable about the treatments and wounds and things. "

Smee gathered all that he needed, from water to bandages to medicine. And Clara carried some of the items for him. But the grandfather-like figure had no time to thank her, because she began rambling nonsense faster than the speed of light. And Smee had grown especially weary after haven been stuck with the chatty lady, so he just ignored her.

"I will help you nurse him back to health! And I shall help him with everything! Eating, brushing his hair, uh...Maybe not getting dressed or bathing you can still do those but oh I can be of great help to him!" She was like a child at Christmas, and Smee's stomach grew queasy. If Clara constantly stuck by the pirate leader and talked as much as she had done with Smee, he would most likely spiral down into delirium in less than a minute. But having no other choice, the loyal sailor dragged his feet over to the dreaded location.

"Now now lass, the Capt'n has an exceptionally foul temper. I recommend ye stay away and just let me. You're mighty kind for offering, but just allow me to do everything." They were both now ascended the steps and stood at the door with the gold letters "Captain Jas Hook" engraved into it. There were also designs of cupids and mermaids that Clara hadn't been aware of before.

"But I am the new cabin girl now! It's my duty to help, and I really want to help you as well Mr. Smee." She stayed right next to him, and stopped when he stopped. Smee sighed in defeat, and decided to finally let her have her way.

"Very well. But remember, I warned ye." With a slow creak, the door opened. And as he had done for the past twenty years, the old boatswain poked his head inside. But this time he had a young woman next to him, parroting his every move.

Furniture was overturned everywhere, and was strewn in its exact place from after the bombing. The bed was shifted over far too much to the wall, and on top of it lay the unconscious captain still dressed in clothes from the preceding night. But his injured wrist had semi-new bandages from the previous evening, and a... Pistol, tied the side to keep it from bending. His wounded limb was propped up on a small pillow, and other than his chest gently rising and falling, he remained motionless.

Clara gulped, but watched as Smee carefully tiptoed across the various items that lay strewn across the floor without much difficult. Clara tried following, but after the first step she slipped and fell to the ground with a loud thud.

A growl before Hook lurched up while raising up his left arm with the gun. His wild hair was everywhere.

"Surrender or I'll shoot!" He was only able to open one eye, but the weapon was still aimed with scary accuracy exactly to where Clara was sprawled. She squeaked and held both hands in the air.

"Sir! I'm sorry to have startled you!" Cold sweat broke out across Clara's skin.

Grumbling, Hook opened the other eye as well, his body slightly swaying from the sleep that still possessed it. Slowly, everything faded into clarity, and he was able to see the sharp image of both Smee and the girl. Both of them resembled small rabbits that had been caught in a trap.

"What..." Hook lowered the pistol. There was a hot throbbing in his left arm, and soreness possessed the skin where his contraption holding his hook was tightly strapped.

"Easy sir, let me clean and redress that for you. Would you like me to take yer hook off?"

Still not fully grasping what exactly was going on, Hook just nodded. Smee waddled over, and Hook swung his legs so he sat on the edge of his luxurious mattress while struggling to shake himself back to full consciousness. He complied as his caretaker removed his coat and then his shirt.

Clara had no time to blush because she was distracted by the contraption that held the hook in pace. She closely examined the many straps and belts wrapped across the captain's bare torso. She watched on, utterly fascinated, as Smee's fingers quickly undid the various buckles. The leather device slid off, taking along the metal claw with it. Hook noticed the girl's shameless staring, and quickly hid his missing limb before she could catch a glimpse of it.

"Has manners changed since my time?"

Clara looked up at his eyes for the first time.

"Pardon me?" She blinked at him, her expression blank. Hook wondered how it was possible for someone to be so clueless, he instead of saying his musings out loud, he asked a snide question instead.

"Is it now polite...For young ladies to gape at half-naked men?"

Her cheeks flushed and she immediately dropped her gaze to the floor. He sneered.

"I apologize sir. I didn't mean to be so rude." From her peripheral vision, she saw Smee slipping Hook into a new, clean shirt. And as soon as he was decently covered again, she peeked up at his fracture.

As Smee worked quickly to undo the soiled bandages, Clara studied his actions. After they were undone, she winced upon seeing the severity of the injury.

"Oh...How painful. That rotten Raoul..." She then blinked, and then turned back to the captain with a nervous expression. "Is...Is he dead?"

Hook yawned, and flinched when Smee wrapped the new bandage a bit too tightly. He did not notice that the firearm had been taken away from him this time.

"I doubt it. Severely injured perhaps, but still breathing." He straightened his back, and a series of pops travelled down his spine.

The girl eyed the commander's messy mane.

"Does he still have one strike left?"

"Yes. Still has one left." Another yawn from the pirate leader, who fixated his attention on his boatswain, who finished tending to his wrist.

"Capt'n, would you like to freshen up? Shall I draw the bath?"

But before he could answer, a growl came from his stomach, and everyone regarded it at the same time.

"Oh... I think dinner should come first." A hearty laugh from the Irishman, and Clara chuckled with him.

But the captain frowned.

"Dinner?"

Smee tensed, paling as he realized his mistake. But he had no time to start panicking, because at that exact moment, someone knocked on the door. Clara opened it, allowing several men, including Bruce, to enter and quickly set the table with a perfect feast for one in a matter of seconds. And as quickly as they entered, they slipped away and left, leaving the atmosphere deathly silent.

"It's...It's dinner time now...Capt'n." Smee gulped and braced himself for the brooding volcano to finally explode. But he had to wait a bit more, because only chilly silence passed through the air. Clara caught the shift, and eyed the two men.

Hook was staring down at his senior with a scowl that could freeze over Neverland.

"It's dinner time now." Hook repeated Smee's phrase, and the old boatswain gulped before backing away. And he silently thanked the heavens that he had removed the man's metal claw and his firearm earlier.

Clara scanned Hook's bloodthirsty expression, and how much Smee was starting to sweat. She continued eyeing both of them, standing right in the middle.

"Mr. Smee, if I understand correctly..." Hook slowly stood. "You have allowed an entire day to pass... And decided not to wake me until it was over?" There was a low growl emanating from the back of the captain's throat, and Smee squeaked like a caged rabbit. Smee stepped back, but Hook stepped forward.

"I'm sorry Capt'n! You needed rest!"

Hook flipped over his night stand with his stub, sending an explosion of sound to slice through the air.

"You incompetent simpleton! You brainless half-wit! You seem to have forgotten that I have a ship to maintain, and requires being conscious!" His voice was louder than the crash, and veins popped from his neck. Smee had backed all the way up to the door, and he fumbled around the doorknob.

"Now now...Capt'n, please calm down."

"Calm down?! Do you wish to be gutted alive?!"

Before Hook could lunge at Smee, Clara lunged in between them with both with her arms spread wide open.

"Sir! It is now time to eat! Won't you please sit down?"

Hook tried stepping to the left, but Clara blocked him. He tried going the other way, but the girl blocked him again. And Smee, now only concerned with preserving his existence, took the opportunity to frantically burst through the doors and run away as far as he could.

The door slammed, leaving Clara and Hook alone.

"Aren't you hungry sir?" She gulped.

Hook released a heavy sigh while gritting his teeth.

"Please step aside." He continued glowering down at the girl, hoping that she would back down. But of course, she didn't.

"But sir, there's a lovely buffet before you...You wouldn't want me to eat all of it, now would you?"

As soon as she said so, another thundering grumble came from Hook's empty stomach. The lack of eating and drinking finally caught up to his body, and suddenly it grew hard to stand. Releasing a sigh, he grumbled something like an agreement. But then he was reminded of his current state, and how eating was impossible without the assistance of someone else.

He froze.

Before he could think about fasting, another pang of hunger made him blurt his next words.

"Call back Smee again. I... I'm afraid that a task as simple as eating is more than difficult in my current condition." He averted his gaze.

"I can feed you!"

He blinked, before glancing back up again. And the girl beaming at him like the ditzy fool she was.

"No!" He had spoken louder than he intended, so he adjusted his volume."No. Absolutely not. Call back Smee, he will...He will..." Hook's entire being burned at the thought of either of them doing so. But the thought of her doing so completely overwhelmed him with the urge to hide himself under his bed. Or fling himself into the ocean.

"No, I insist that I assist you. After all, you had been so terribly kind to go through the trouble of searching for me. I think I might as well return the favor by being of help to you. So please, sir, allow me and let poor old Smee rest. Please?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

Hook sighed in defeat and avoided her glittering green eyes, before he could be tempted to seriously consider throwing himself overboard.

They went over to the table and sat, and Clara had to bring her chair quite close to the captain so that she was at an appropriate proximity from him. And only after she had completely settled down did her ridiculous grin finally wipe away.

Shatter. Disappear. Vanish. She had finally realized what kind of situation she had gotten herself into.

Normally, there would have been a knife Hook could screw onto his contraption to replace his claw for during meals. But the utensil had been lost for several weeks now, and even if there was a replacement, Hook's short temper would have prevented Smee from attaching it anyway. But whether his arm had a talon or steak knife at the end, he would lash out during a tantrum. And at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to shoot the old man. Gut him. Swear. But he had taken away all his weapons, and he couldn't use obscene language in front of a lady.

And so, he merely sat still while wearing an unreadable mask.

"A-alright then... Er..." The girl's cheeks bloomed to pink.

"What would you like to eat first?" She twiddled her fingers together.

"Whatever you would like me to eat first." He released a quiet sigh.

She went for the soup. Color creeped up to her ears and spread to her neck, and Hook observed how violently her hands shook.

"A-alright sir…Uh…It's quite hot please be careful." She grumbled and focused on the spoon and only the spoon. It was evident that she tried extremely hard not to look at the captain, and so she ended up missing his mouth and hitting his chin instead.

Hook flinched upon feeling the hot liquid burning his skin.

"Oh no! I'm terribly sorry!" She continued profusely apologizing as she wiped away the stain. "I think I shall give it another go."

Squinting in concentration, Clara brought the utensil closer.

"Alright captain, open wide."

But it landed in his hair, and Hook barely refrained himself from uttering a certain word. How bad could someone's accuracy be?

"Heavens! I'm so sorry Captain!" She was sincere, which made it more necessary for him to maintain his patience.

"It's alright darling." He released a silent sigh before forcing himself to smile. But it came as a grimace.

She tried again, but now she was even more jittery and tense than before. Pink changed to scarlet on her cheeks, and she was still unable to meet his gaze. And as her nervousness increased, Hook's patience weathered away more and more.

This time it hit his nose, and the girl repeated a million "I'm sorry sir's" like she had done before. This time Hook didn't even bother trying to look polite. Various parts of his face now stung and throbbed a little from the burns.

"Not a problem my dear." But it was a problem, because the soup was everywhere except where it should be!

She attempted one more time. This time the soup seemed to advance exactly where it was supposed to, and Hook stared at the delicious liquid that inched closer and closer and closer...Yes! It was almost there! He could practically taste it!

But then it ended up in his ear.

Hook hissed at the burning sting, and his chair crashed backwards to the ground when he abruptly stood.

"My goodness! I'm so sorry!" Before Clara could stand and grab the napkin again, Hook slammed his maimed limb onto the table. Plates clattered, but nothing broke or fell.

"Blast it you stupid woman! My mouth is here! Here!" He pointed with his stub, and Clara squeaked. "Are you blind?! Do you need spectacles?! What is the bloody problem?!"

"Uh-um...W-well..." Clara did not know he was asking rhetorical questions. He kicked at his chair and snarled like a savage beast.

"It really isn't that difficult! You just take the food, and shove it into where it belongs! It's a very simple concept that you somehow don't seem to understand!" Panting, he glowered down at Clara who shrunk back into her seat while bowing her head.

"I...I apologize sir... I didn't do it on purpose I was so nervous and-"

"It would be much more effective for me to just lick the soup like a dog! Why in Neverland did you volunteer to do something... If you can't do it right?!"

Clara flinched, and allowed a moment of silence to settle before speaking up again.

"I... I was just trying to help..." She then glanced up at him with unintentional puppy dog eyes. "I didn't mean to anger you...Please don't be too cross with me..."

Hook realized that he was behaving like an overgrown child, and then released a heavy sigh. Inhaling deeply, his expression softened.

"I apologize for my outburst Miss. Clara." He was almost immediately regained composure, and a glassy appearance glossed over his features as he regarded both of his useless hands. "It is not you I am cross with."

She bloomed into that blindingly-bright smile again, and it caught Hook off-guard as it always did.

"Oh I'm glad! Although you do have every reason to be. I didn't realize feeding someone would be this difficult, and I didn't know I would be terrible at it! I promise to do better!" This time, there was a slight giggle behind her tone as she visibly relaxed. She sounded just like an obnoxious child, but Hook had no more energy to get angry or annoyed. His empty stomach moaned in protest, and every part of him felt quite limp and weak from starvation.

Without him having to ask, she stood and propped his fallen chair upright again. He nodded and thanked her, before sitting down and bracing himself for the tortuous nightmare to proceed once again.

Clara only missed three more times, but otherwise she did a fantastic job. She furiously blushed while rambling on and on about the day's previous events, in desperate attempt to keep awkward silence away. It made the experience as comfortable as it possibly could, but Hook could still tell that the girl was beyond embarrassed. He didn't talk much at all just to make her squirm a little more, and so he could hear her soothing voice. Listening to her blocked his own thoughts, and paying attention to her, gave him no time to feel ashamed. And hearing about her smashing Raoul's groin and leaving him on the ground dissipated any irritation that had been left inside of the captain and restored his tolerant, pleasant mood.

The ordeal finally ended much to both of their reliefs, and before Clara could begin recounting her meeting with the Lost Boys.

"I'm quite full now, thank you." He stood. "I think I'll retire for the evening."

Hook didn't know if it was the most humiliating or strangest experience he ever had. But he did know that it was the worst supper he had ever had to sit through, and that he did not anticipate the next one.

After all, unless it was a strange fetish, most adult men did not enjoy being spoon-fed like a newborn infant.

"I'll escort you to your to bed then!" She also stood with a grin, before pushing in both chairs. "Shall I clear the plates?"

"Leave Smee to do it in the morning." He began walking over to his inviting bed, every part of him growing heavier by the second despite getting a plethora of sleep. She beat him there, and pulled back the covers for him. He wondered where she got all her boundless energy from, but then remembered whose daughter she was. Saying nothing, he trudged over, sat on the edge, kicked off his boots, and then leaned back on his fluffy pillows. And for some reason, Clara giggled while tucking him in all the way up to the neck.

Hook arched an eyebrow.

"What is so amusing?"

She laughed again while shaking her head, and tried her best to force down the fuzzy feeling inside of her that threatened to bubble over into another giggle.

"It's been quite peculiar evening, and I never imagined that I'd be bidding you goodnight like a mother would." Her smile fell just a little, but Hook's observant gaze didn't miss the subtle change. She stood and strolled over to the other side so she could switch off the lantern. But then she spotted the captain struggling to get his upper limbs above from the heavy covers.

"My dear, my left wrist needs to be propped up."

"Oh yes! I forgot." Clara quickly lowered the duvet, and grabbed a small pillow to do just that. And once she finished, she was face-to face with his missing hand. For the first time, she was able see to it in full detail.

She froze.

Angry, blistered skin stretched over the bump that served as the abrupt end. She studied the outline of the severed bone, as well as the faded scars that crossed over one another. It was red and swollen from the appendage that always sat on top, and from him slamming it against wooden surfaces during his tantrums. As she shamelessly stared at the stump, the man attached to it carefully studied her as wariness gripped him. But oddly enough, he did not find the two emotions he hated most inside her eyes as she scrutinized his deformity: pity and repulsion. Instead, he found that melancholy had settled over her like a dark cloud.

"Why did he do it?" A faint accent of reproach lined her tone.

Hook tensed, but kept his voice steady.

"No one knows."

"What...What were the events that led up to the..."

"Incident?"

"Yes..."

Unwanted memories rushed back into his mind. The memories that he had buried, reemerged from their graves and haunted him like persistent ghosts. But despite that being so, he was careful to conceal the brooding storm that lurked inside.

Clara didn't notice she seated herself a bit too close to the captain. But he did, but pretended not to notice.

"I believe I was taking a short nap on the deck." He was able to keep his composure surprisingly well without snapping in irritation. But it was mostly because he was utterly spent. It was late and his body was weary.

"Alright...And then what happened?" Clara tried to remain as polite as she could while prying for more. But his expression remained stone still.

"That is all. I was sound asleep."

Silence. For several long moments, all Clara did was stare at him, waiting for more. But he didn't say anything more, and then she realized that was was the whole story.

"You...You...You were taking a nap..." She repeated the phrase more to herself.

"Yes." His voice stayed neutral.

"And then...And then it happened..."

A sigh, before he leaned back while keeping his focus straight ahead.

"Miss Clara, it is quite late now. I believe it's bedtime. You've encountered several near-death experiences last night, and I believe you are in much need of rest."

Nothing. He cleared his throat and tried one more time to dismiss the girl.

"You are free to-"

"I'm so sorry."

Blinking, he faced the girl.

Her eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to spill over, and her lower lip quivered a bit as she struggled to hold herself together. She swallowed, before breaking away her gaze and fixing it onto his disfigurement. He had done this. But why? Why on earth would he cripple this man forever? What had he done to deserve such cruelty? He had done absolute nothing wrong, and he had shown her nothing but hospitably and kindness during her short stay.

Clara remembered his frustration while she fed him, and finally realized the true reasons behind it. He must've had plenty of terrible recollections of relearning how to do even the basic of things, and the meal must've been a terrible reminder of all that he was incapable of doing.

Unknowingly, her small, white hand slowly started moving towards him. She didn't break her attention away from his stump, and she continued reaching for it.

But the captain kept still and silent while studying her every move, every part of him tense. He stared with narrowing eyes and almost began to growl when the girl made no effort to stop. It appeared as if she going to touch...No, she wouldn't. Reckless as she was, she didn't have the audacity to...Did she?

Her hand moved closer and closer. A few feet turned to a few inches, and a few inches soon turned into a few centimeters. But when her fingertips almost grazed across his calloused skin, she froze. Then she glanced up.

He was like a cornered wolf. He was poised and ready to pounce, and his icy glare sent chills down her spine. There was such a hostility and desperation inside of them, warning her that if she continued, he would snap.

She quickly tore her arm away while whipping her head downcast at the covers.

She realized that he must find her repulsive. She then finally realized that to him, she was nothing more but a nuisance. A pest. A leech. She was once again just another painful reminder, just like she was to another man. A ghost of the past that only stirred memories of someone else, who also had green eyes.

"I'm terribly sorry...I'm keeping you up and bothering you." She pointed her body towards the door, and kept her gaze aimed away from him. "I think it's time I took my leave."

Already, it was as if her presence was gone. And already the space felt emptier. She rose to her feet.

"Since I've answered many of your questions, answer just one of mine for me."

Clara was silent, and so he continued.

"You know that I am only using you. So why on earth did you return?"

The girl blinked before she allowed her hair to hide her face. All of her slumped just a little more.

"Because I had nowhere else to go." A wry chuckle. "What a silly question for you to ask."

She walked over to the exit before turning the handle. The cold breeze rushed in, and Hook's eyes locked onto her back form.

"I hope you rest well. Goodnight." She departed, leaving the captain staring at the door long after it shut.

* * *

 _My Radiant Readers,_

 _This was by far the longest chapter I have written and I had a lot of difficulty writing it. I didn't know what parts to cut and what to keep, and I hope that there was more parts that you all enjoyed rather than finding boring. I surely hope that truly this chapter did not put you to sleep, and I hope that there was at least a little bit of chuckles for one particular scene._

 _It has been a while since I've updated(one week), and I thought I would make it up to you all by making this chapter especially long. And I might have overdone it, but oh well. There was a lot of catching up to do, both on my part and in terms of the story. I am happy to announce that I have written up to chapter fourteen(and planned out exactly what will happen until the end, which is chapter 30), and so the next updates will be far quicker than this one has been._

 _I had a much fun writing the more light-hearted part of this chapter, but I also enjoyed writing the end part as well. I personally felt that the beginning part was a bit too long, and I am a little bit iffy on the mood shifts and am wondering if they were smooth enough. Please feel free to drop a comment to tell me what feels lacking or wrong so far in the story, whether that be the plot, Clara, or if the relationships between the characters just feels bland._

 _Thank you so much **MusicalsandMordreds** , **theusalguest** , and **VelvetGoldie** for your constant compliments and support, and I hope that your day is filled with happy thoughts._

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	12. Chapter 12

**Odd**

A week passed before things returned to normal and calm.

Hook was out on the deck, watching from afar the activities of his ship. The Jolly Roger was gliding across the waters, and a light breeze guided the sails in the direction of the port, where most of the adults of Neverland lived. They were in dire need of relinquishing supplies.

Especially rum.

The captain's watchful eye roved about, keeping track of all his men and what they were doing. They all moved at a sluggish speed, exhausted and tired from a tedious business called living. And Hook knew that feasting and drinking for a day would lift their spirits and working pace back to normal.

As always, his attention always wandered back to a certain girl. And then ended up staying on her and only her.

Clara was listening as the helmsman explained how the ship moved and how it was able to sail forward. And Hook clenched his teeth when the man glanced down at her chest area. But when the guilty person caught the captain sending him the warning glare, and so he quickly fixed his error and focused on the lady's lovely eyes again.

Since the first day of her arrival, Clara was much smellier than before and dirtier since she had not had a bath, and like a true sailor she did not mind at all. There was always a fire of determination that burned inside of her being as she tended to her chores, and there was a healthy glow about her. The young lady thrived in her new, nautical environment and excelled in her menial duties as the cabin girl. Neither of the two had mentioned the first day Clara had assisted him. The night where she had probed too much, and the captain answered too much. Neither ever mentioned the incident, and both acted as if it had never happened in the first place. Which did both of them good.

Every day, she had barged into his chambers along with Smee to wake him up. She assisted Smee in laying out his clothes and she did most of the assisting when it came to feeding him. But she ceased when three days past, because by then Hook's wrist had grown well enough. Since the two had treated him as if he was an infant, the captain's injury had improved to the point that he could start grasping things again, and he was able to bend. The swelling was gone, and on the outside, it appeared normal.

In fact, it was as if everyone had been resting for three weeks instead of one, yet no one was alarmed. After all, it was Neverland. And the natural rules such as time bent backwards in the land past the second star. And like everyone else, it was not the exponential rate of recovery that the captain found strange.

It was how the girl had somehow forced herself into his mind and occupied all of it.

Following the incident, Hook grew absorbed in trying to figure out the mystery puzzle called "Clara." He could not find a good explanation as to why she was so nervous around him. She had made it clear again and again that she did not fear him, and so that couldn't have been the reason... And she had made herself quite at home on his ship and pranced about as if she owned the place! There wasn't a logical answer as to why she gaped at him without shame on some days, and on others not be able to even glance at his chin! On some days, she was so eager to be in his company, and at others she avoided him like the plague!

Hook blamed it on her being a woman, because women were peculiar creatures. And Clara was the most peculiar of them all.

She was as sweet and beautiful as her mother had been, with an innocent sparkle about her that couldn't be tarnished. And he couldn't help but find that to be extremely suspicious: her cheerful disposition was too... Too cheerful. She acted too happy, and far to angelic. She to akin to a talkative child, and yet Hook had a feeling that she was hiding an ulterior motive underneath her dazzling façade.

But that was because he viewed all souls similar to himself: cold, calloused wolves lurking beneath kindred masks. And Clara was the most dangerous due to appearing the most harmless: she probably was waiting for the exact moment Hook was the most vulnerable to strike. Yes, this was her true motive. What other reason was there to explain her irregular behavior? The sole logical explanation was that she was trying to gain his interest and trust, just so she could betray him when he least expected it.

After all, it was customary to keep friends close and enemies closer.

"Captain!"

He jumped a bit as he was jolted from his thoughts, and saw the subject of them running towards him wearing the stupidest of grins. Why was the fool always smiling?

"Oh Captain! Mr. Garner told me that we'll be arriving in the village by tomorrow morning!" She stopped once she was in front of him. And then she shot him that warm smile again. The one that caught him off guard every time and blinded him like the sun. The one that melted away all of his negative thoughts about her in an instant, and the one that he found wanting to see more of and the one that made him wary.

Hook noted that Clara was in a rather friendly mood on that particular day.

"Hm. Indeed." Hook kept his voice neutral, and concealed how much he squirmed under her prescence.

"That means you'll have to show me the Market Place like you promised!

He rose an eyebrow at the girl.

"I don't recall making such promise."

Immediately, a frown slapped itself across her features.

"You did! You said you would show me around!"

"I did not." He smirked, completely haven forgotten his earlier doubts of her as he always did.

"So you won't?"

"No." He didn't bat an eyelash when she tried using her puppy dog face. "Relinquishing our food supply is of utmost importance."

Her expression shriveled as if she had tasted something sour.

"We'll be spending the entire day and night there! I think you don't want me to have any fun, because you're still cross over my accidental tearing your favorite shirt. I think it's high time you forgave me and moved on, dear captain. "

"And I think it's high time you learned how to wield a sword. Has Smee even shown you how to hold a cutlass?"

"You said you would teach me how to! And I've been patiently waiting for that wrist of yours to get better."

"You? Patiently waiting?" Hook feigned shock and gasped, while holding his hook to his chest. "I didn't know you were capable of doing such a thing!"

She glared.

"Well of course I am." She stuck her nose up in the air like the overgrown child she was and crossed her arms. "I don't want anyone else to teach me."

"And the reason being?"

"I enjoy bothering you more than anyone else."

"I'm flattered."

"When do you presume the lessons will begin? Will you be healed in a week? A few days?"

"Lesson?" Hook put on the most clueless expression he could muster. "What lessons?"

He almost laughed out loud in satisfaction when the girl huffed and puffed and stomped her foot.

"Oh! You know bloody well what lessons I'm referring to!"

"What a short temper you have."

She calmed, and a haughty demeanor settled upon her.

"Well, I do try to follow your example. After all, you are my dear captain whom I find to be immensely admirable." She rolled her eyes.

He chuckled, before fixing his attention on the sky and sea after realizing that he had been staring right at her for too long.

"And you are my dear cabin girl whom I find immensely amusing." Hook said the words in a light manner without any malice. Leaning his elbows on the edge railing, he gazed out at the shimmering waves and didn't notice the flush of color that flooded onto Clara's cheeks. Despite being seized with a sudden surge of shyness, she continued regarding the man, barely able to contain her own brimming wonder.

Silence fell between the two, with the man enjoying the scenery and the girl staring at the man doing so.

Every part of him was relaxed as he reclined against the railing, and a slight smile played at the corner of his lips. He was lulled into serenity by the sound of gentle creaks of the rocking boat. He was so still and at peace as he stared into the vast, deep blue the way women only dreamed of a man looking at them.

"Isn't she beautiful?"

Clara's pulse and breathing quickened.

"Who?"

"The sea. Isn't she magnificent?"

"Why do you refer to it as female?"

"Because oceans are like women, they never fail to captivate a man." He still gazed out at the endless blanket of blue, his eyes glittering.

"How so?" Clara parroted his actions and leaned against the railing as well, with her burning cheeks resting in her hands. He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow as if he was baffled that she asked such a thing.

"They are the most perplexing and mysterious things in the world, and no one ever truly understands them." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing.

She burst out laughing, he continued.

"They are unpredictable, unforgiving, and dangerous. But they can also be gentle, soothing, and utterly wonderful."

Clara shook her head more to herself, before fixing her focus ahead on the water. "Well, I have never met a woman who fits such description." She continued admiring the view as Hook had done so earlier, without giving much thought to her own comment.

And the captain stared at her, and didn't say anything. Another spell of quiet settled in the air, this time with the woman enjoying the scenery, and the man observing her doing so.

"Clara!" A disembodied voice came from behind. The two snapped their heads in the direction.

Bruce was jogging towards them, and every step he took left a loud thud that echoed across the ship. And the captain glared at the approaching giant who had disrupted their moment of solitude, while Clara ran over to meet him halfway.

"Bruce! Did you finish helping the cook?"

He stopped in front of her and nodded. Clara beamed.

"Alright! Let's have our arm-wrestling match then!" And then she skipped away with the man, leaving Hook staring at their retreating forms. And imagining the so-called match ending with Clara sprawled the ground with her arm snapped the wrong way.

Despite the queasiness the settled in his stomach, the captain regarded the two from afar while keeping his worries to himself. After all, the boorish man called Bruce absolutely adored her as if she was his sister. And so, he and tiny girl settled in front of a barrel, and positioned themselves for the childish show of strength with which Clara was in the high disadvantage of.

For some reason, there was a spike of irritation that started eating away at Hook when he saw their hands combine. If he had lacked self-control, he would have marched on over and pulled them a part. But he was a man who cared too much for appearances. And so, he turned away as if he was disinterested. But he was still observing them from his peripheral vision of course.

Even though she was using both hands and all the strength she had, the man's bulky arm didn't budge. As the back of her hand crept closer and closer to the surface of the barrel within seconds, her desperation grew. And then suddenly, she looked to the far right.

"Look! It's a mother!"

"Where?!"

In Bruce's moment of distraction, Clara slammed his hand down using all her body weight. Only once it was too late, did he realize what had happened, and until she stood and started to cheer he remained clueless.

"I won!"

Hook almost burst out laughing at her cheat method. Of course, he did not: he didn't want the fact that he was spying on them to be revealed.

"Hey! That's cheating!" He frowned.

Without realizing, Hook smiled to himself while watching her jump about, hooting and hurrahing at her victory: unabashed of the bad form she had resorted to.

"I win! I win! I win!" Skipping about, the wild woman threw her head back and crowed. And when she did, he remembered the old name that had not been entering his thoughts.

In the past, his mind always wandered back to the boy. His entire days had revolved around the daydream of the imp's blood pooling at his feet. He had lived for the vision of the boy limp on the ground to come true for as long as he could remember. The maddening desire for the child's neck, was what had fueled him to keep going year after year, and the lust for vengeance was what had kept Hook from giving up.

He had been the reason Hook had been able to defy even death.

And yet, the captain couldn't remember the most recent daydream he had about revenge. And he couldn't even remember the most recent moment he even thought about the current Pan, or...Mr. Banning, since the girl's return. The banker must have noticed that the girl was gone by now, and surely, he would be miserable. He must be sick with grief, downtrodden with woe. Yet the thought of him suffering brought Hook no joy, or any emotions whatsoever. And he found that to be odd.

Very odd indeed.

* * *

 _Dearest Reader,_

 _I hope this chapter wasn't too awkward or boring or nothing as usual. Thanks for your support again, and I shall be working on the other chapters now hehe. Happy writing and reading!_

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_

 _-P.S, sorry about short author's note I just need to get writing the other chapters more._

 _-P.P.S(or is it P.S.S?) Thank you **VelvetGoldie, MusicalsandMordreds, and theusualguest.**_


	13. Chapter 13

**Epiphany**

As expected, the Jolly Roger arrived at the docks the next morning.

Clara had been a part of the crew's chaos when they stopped the boat and had it anchored in thirty minutes. And before she knew it, she found herself surrounded by the Marketplace along with the other pirates.

The captain had broken up all the men into separate groups, with one being appointed as the representative and given the exact monetary value needed. And Hook knew that the group of criminals would return to him, for they had nowhere else to go. They were all quite infamous and easy to spot, and there wasn't anywhere they could hide anyways if they did end up escaping. And while everyone was occupied in the task of organizing who buys what and who carries what back to the ship, the young lady was able to slip further down the inviting streets undetected.

The bazaar was filled with all kinds of astonishing splashes of colors and odors: food stalls with overpowering aromas begged her to come over, jugglers and flame eaters danced about, and all sorts of exotic silks and fabrics swayed with the slight wind. Clara couldn't help but gape in awe at the vast display of wonders laid out for her eyes to feast on. Like a small bottle in a large ocean, she was swept off by sound of strange chatter of all kinds of languages and carried away by the sea of people.

Men and women of all shapes and sizes bustled through, some dressed in clothing from different eras. Geishas clothed silk kimonos daintily stepped past, burly Vikings clambered on, and a few French nobles pranced about in full court wear. Smee had told her that like children, adults who were lost and had nowhere to go often wounded up in Neverland. And that they too, soon forgot of the old lives they led prior. And they too became chained to the world eternally.

Despite not knowing where she was headed or how far she had strayed, Clara kept on moving forward. She traveled at the same pace of all the other grownups around her, perfectly blending in. She meandered on and on for what seemed like hours, until she reached the very end of the dirt path. Beyond it was more ocean.

Before she could go back the way she had come, a distinct voice sliced through the air and caught her ears.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Prepare yourselves for an amazing tale!" He was a tan, skinny individual, with a shaved head and clean chin. He was more tattooed than Hook's men, and he wore nothing but a pair of loose, white pantaloons. She initially thought he was snake charmer of sorts.

"Gather round, gather round!" His words boomed like thunder. "Listen carefully, for I am about to tell you the infamous story of the most amazing boy to have ever lived! Peter Pan!" His grandiose gestures assured her that she would not regret listening to him. And so she stayed put despite the slight sinking of her heart upon hearing the name.

"He was the troublesome youth who refused to grow up! That is, until he met a very special girl."

Her ears perked. Time slowed. Was he really talking about who she was thinking of?

"The one who changed everything... And the one who had turned him into a man."

She slipped past other bystanders, focusing on the man and only the man. Her pulse quickened, and she was completely reeled in like a fish on a hook.

"She came from a distant world where children grow up and then grow old. And her name, was Wendy Darling."

The throbbing ache in her heart came back. Or rather, she finally remembered it was still there.

"He was the ghost that had haunted this land since the beginning of time." He spoke in a gruff whisper, and most of the audience didn't pay him much mind. Many walked off or talked amongst themselves. Clara was the only one who strained her ears while leaning in, her eyes wide and bright. The man noticed, and continued.

"She was the girl with a pure heart, and the one who possessed a sweet secret at the right corner of her lips."

She reached up to touch the spot the same time the man did.

"Pan was the flying menace, the ruler of the killer children!" He now pointed a wooden sword at a man nearby, who didn't blink. "He was a wild plunderer, a hater of adults! The most ruthless friend and foe this world has ever seen!"

"Yes, we know." The man with the toy weapon still pointed at him deadpanned. The raconteur visibly twitched, but he plowed through.

"But he was but a youth! A little duckling without a mother...And so he stole away to England every now and then to spy upon Wendy, to listen to stories of himself. And eventually, he was able to lure her out of her safe home like he had done with many before her."

Clara was too absorbed inside the man's retelling of old accounts and failed to detect a tall figure coming her way. He was none other than the very villain of the tale, who had grown aware the girl's absence and who had slipped from his crew to seek her. And who was annoyed he had to march all the way to the very end of the town to finally locate her.

It wasn't difficult at all to spot a certain head of ginger hair amongst the crowd, and he was able to weave his way past people until he was a mere ten feet from her.

Although Clara failed to perceive his silent presence, others did not. And the first thing their attentions were directed to was none other than his infamous metal talon. Drastically paling, many inched further and further from the ominous person and pretended he wasn't there. All avoided looking in his direction, and some retreated back into the moving current of people and left.

Hook caught bits and pieces of the what the man was saying, and immediately lost interest. It was the same old, washed-out story he had lived through more than a million times. And seeing that the street entertainer had nothing important to say, the pirate leader focused all of his attention on the girl instead. But he frowned upon noticing how downcast her demeanor was. Was she upset that the narrative was almost over?

Instead of finding childlike awe and wonder in her eyes while listening to the part of Wendy acting as the surrogate mother to the Lost Boys, he noticed the same melancholy from a few days ago inside them. And that melancholy soon turned into a dark emotion that Hook was all too familiar with.

"And they adored her."

She clenched her fists and jaw, and her expression grew stone-cold. And she wasn't looking at the scrawny man anymore: her gaze was fixated on her dirty boots.

"She tucked them in and sang them to sleep, she showered them with endless love and affection. She told them countless stories, and she never failed to completely entrance them."

Hook watched as bitter jealousy consumed her being, and how she started to shake just like a certain pixie. He would have made his presence known to her at that moment, but he was finally catching longer glimpses of the uglier emotions that he rarely saw underneath her "angelic" exterior. He was finally catching a minuscule hint of her true nature that crept within the shadows, and there was a surge of satisfaction that coursed through him as she cracked more and more. But that satisfaction soon dwindled when envy faded into sorrow, and when she began to quietly cry. What she was sad about Hook didn't know, but he decided it was time to approach the girl and put an end to her ails. Why was she always crying? Well, it didn't really matter why, because he cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Miss. Clara."

She whirled around, lips parting as she spotted him.

"Captain?" She blinked. He stepped forward while painting a look of mock anger on his features.

"I don't recall giving you permission to wander off."

"I'm sorry sir. I..." The girl quickly wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I didn't realize I had done so until I was all the way here."

"I don't understand why you are always crying when I find you." He grumbled this more to himself as he offered her a handkerchief that had been hidden inside his sleeve. She took it this time, and loudly blew her nose into it. And after she regained most of her composure did the captain commence reprimanding her for straying far from the group.

She stared as Hook continued chiding her over her immature and reckless actions, but she didn't hear anything he was saying. All she could hear was the story that continued to progress.

 _"She was the one who stirred the forgotten feelings inside of him. The calloused, heartless boy learned how to remember again."_

The captain kept speaking, but she only caught the rise and falls of his voice rather than the actual sentences coming from his mouth. Although he glared at her so sternly, she didn't find any actual anger inside his cerulean eyes. She wondered if it was concern she was seeing instead...

Did he care? No... No, of course not. It was his duty to make sure his crew didn't stray away. But wasn't it more trouble to keep her on the ship? After all, like he had mentioned, her experience and skill were quite lacking compared to the other sailors. And he had found her in the forest a week ago without much good reason, like how he had once again found her now...

But why did it matter? She was a pawn to be used in a game of revenge that he had been forced to play because of his own stubbornness. And he had absolutely no reason to hold any sentiment towards her.

Her heart sank and tightened with an inexplicable ache.

"Do not go off on your own again. It is not safe." He snapped at her one last time, and the young woman finally snapped out from her thoughts. She blinked when his expression softened as he spoke up again in a gentler tone. "My dear, it is truly concerning how irrational you can be at times." He said so while sighing.

 _"She appeared like a bright, warm fire in his cold and lonely life."_

"You...You worry for me?" No, he wouldn't. Why would he? The mere notion was absolutely preposterous.

"Of course. You always seem to run straight into danger's arms while wearing the most ridiculous of grins. What am I to do if one day I discover you, dead in a pool of your own blood?" Even though a little bit of taunting lurked behind his words, Clara's breathing hitched. If she had pixie dust, right about then she would've shot right into the air and flown like a bird. A warm, fuzzy feeling filled her insides and threatened to bubble over into a giggle, and her cheeks flushed with color.

 _"And she took him on the greatest adventure of all."_

"Let us return to the others. You don't want to miss this evening's festivities, now would you?" He offered her his arm.

She bowed her head and allowed her hair to veil her face.

"Festivities?" She gripped onto him, and her senses were all too aware of how close she was to him. Clara cleared her throat before mustering up the courage to peek up. "What's the occasion?"

Hook noted her suddenly shy behavior but said nothing, and he started briskly strolling.

"The men need a little boost in morale:.. They hadn't had any rum for a week now, which is far too long. And there'll be plenty of food for you to indulge in as well." He was able to quickly dodge past bodies with little trouble, it was difficult for Clara to keep up with his pace.

"What does rum taste like?" She breathless and nearly fell behind. The captain noticed, and adjusted his pace accordingly.

"If you are curious, why don't you try some yourself."

"Is that allowed?"

"Why would it not be?" He glimpsed at her from his peripheral vision. And she felt the captain's piercing gaze again, but tried her best to conceal how much she squirmed under his scrutiny.

"Well...In London a woman drinking is unheard of, but this is Neverland after all." She laughed to herself.

"Yes, Neverland is a tad bit different." He said so in a dry manner.

Their brisk march had slowed to an idle stroll, and Clara saw others stepping away once they recognized who exactly the man next to her was. They all averted their stares from the gleaming metal claw, and tried to ignore their existence to the best of their ability. But despite knowing that she next to a very dangerous criminal, Clara felt rather safe. She did not notice that she clung to him even more tightly, but Hook did.

But neither of the two said anything, and kept ambling on in silence.


	14. Chapter 14

**The Sun**

"Oi! I demand another one please!"

"Ain't you drunk already?"

"Aye!"

The Jolly Roger crew jousted and indulged in the feast of food and rum before them, and they were the sole patrons inside the tavern's dining area. Despite that being so, the sound of their rowdy chatter and roaring laughter could still be heard from the floor above, where the other guests lounging in their rooms could hear. Of course, none of them dared filing complaints to the owner of the tavern, because news had spread about who the rambuncous bunch was.

Hook had already finished his meal, that he had been able to eat without assistance, and sat at the bar. He was at a safe distance from the big table in which the occupants of his ship sat and enjoyed themselves. It was more comfortable for them to not have him their immediate presence, and better for him to keep track of everyone and watch for potential threats.

At least this is what he told himself. The reality of the situation was that he just wanted to "observe" a certain someone without looking suspicious.

Earlier, Clara had chugged down her first mug of alcohol as if it was water. And at first, all the other men could do was stare, however soon they accepted her as one of them and included her in their celebration over nothing in particular. For the entirety of the night's merriment and gaiety, Clara sat amongst the crew, her nose just as red as theirs. Her eyes were half-lidded, and her mouth was frozen in a permanent, half-open smile. Her speech was slurred, and the captain could tell that her mind was growing fuzzier by the minute.

She was quite intoxicated indeed.

Bruce and Smee both stuck by her side, and without knowing they served as protective shields for her. Even if they had not been there, the other pirates would not have done anything to Clara, knowing the captain was lurking somewhere.

"I want another one!" She raised her cup, and several men laughed, showing off their rotting teeth.

"That's the spirit!"

"Yer practically one of us!"

"She's got the thirst of a real sailor alright!" More chortles from the riotous bunch. Bruce shot a concerned frown upon the girl, and Smee was too busy shoving more food inside his excessively large mouth.

"That's your fifth one." The giant belched.

"I plan on having ten." She let out a lazy laugh, her neck rolling around.

The big man shook his head, before he hiccupped.

"S'not a good idea. I think you should-" Another hiccup. "-Go to bed."

She shook her head this time.

"No...No, no, no, no... I am staying right'ere."

Bruce stared at her a quiet moment, and he was quite serious for once. And it almost appeared he possessed something called a brain.

Almost.

"You know, in Neverland when you drink too much... Your bladder explodes."

She gasped.

"No!"

"Yes." Bruce nodded in a forlorn manner, before glimpsing at his own cup, then looking away. Clara stood.

"I will not drink anymore then. I-" She hiccupped. "-Will be going to my room now. Excuse me."

Hook watched, as she stumbled out the wrong door. Sighing, he stood and trailed after her, going by his men undetected. And when he arrived, he found her sitting in the middle of the empty hallway, staring up at the small chandeliers above her. And talking to them.

"You have ugly wings you mean fairy..." She burped. Hook cleared his throat.

"Miss. Clara. I believe you've already had your bath, and yet you have already become filthy once again."

"Captain...My dear captain..." She beamed like the idiot she was before standing. The sudden movement lurched her to the side. Before she could topple over or smash into a wall, Hook caught her.

"I see you've pushed yourself to the absolute limit." He grunted as he hoisted her up again, and Clara gripped onto his coat for support. She nodded.

"Yessir... I am very drunk. Very much so in fact." She chuckled, before wrapping her arms around his neck for better stability. Hook stiffened upon noticing that there was no space between them at all, and that the girl's face was mere inches from his. Clara shamelessly stared into his eyes with a peculiar emotion he couldn't quite name.

"Captain." Her tone was serious.

"Yes?" He grew quite uneasy and was unable to look away.

She burst into another ridiculous smile.

"You are terribly handsome."

He snorted, already anticipating morning when he could recount all she had done and said. And when he could see her squirming with shame.

"Thank you darling. And you are lovely..." He cleared his throat while averting his gaze. "I think you've had more than enough carousing for the night. I'd say...The tavern immediately grew more peaceful as soon as you left."

She rested her forehead on top of his chest and closed her eyes. The action caught him off guard and made him stiffen, however he did not dislike it. After all, she was a young pretty lady, and she was clinging rather tight onto him. Why in Neverland would anyone find it displeasing?

"I am not sleepy."

He sighed.

"Then what will make you sleepy? A bedtime story?" He wasn't surprised when she nodded.

"Yes. If you promise-" A hiccup. "-To tell me one I'll sleep."

Another sigh.

"Very well. Can you walk?"

"Of course I can walk!" She opened her drooping eyes again, and released herself from his grip too quickly, and almost fell flat onto her back. Thankfully, the captain's quick reflexes prevented that. He winced upon feeling the strain in his wrist.

"No, you cannot walk. Why am I surprised?" Hook grumbled more to himself. After the girl sat on the ground again, he knelt while turning his back to her.

"Get on."

Clara obeyed. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. His curls tickled her skin, and so she giggled.

Because his left wrist was still weak, Hook depended on his other arm, and he had to exercise more caution than usual to not leave even the slightest scratch. After securing her, he stood and began walking. And he tried his best to ignore the fact that a young lady had her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Tell me my story now." Her whispers tickled his ears.

He cleared his throat and continued on, thanking his luck that no one noticed him or Clara walking past.

"Once upon a time, there was a young lady who was quite intoxicated. Her balance was so terribly poor that she had to be hauled up to her room. The end."

A snort from her.

"What a beautiful story! I shall tell you one now."

Hook huffed as he began treading up the stairs.

"Once upon a time, there was a very bitter and angry pirate. But he was just a lonely man that just needed some love. The end." She snuggled closer to the warm thing that was carrying her, not entirely aware of who she was talking to or what was happening.

Something stirred inside of Hook, and he didn't know why he found himself at a loss for words.

"You are so very interesting. I've always found you interesting. Has anyone told you how interesting you are?" Clara babbled on more, and he only half-listened.

When they arrived in the modest room, the captain placed the girl on the queen-sized bed. She sat for a little bit, dizzy and not knowing or caring about her whereabouts. There was a small lantern with a candle on the night stand next to the bed, and that was the first thing Clara noticed that was new.

"Tinkerbell? Is that you?" She stared at the flickering light, her eyes growing more distant and foggy with each passing second.

"That is just a flame, my dear girl." Hook pushed her down against the pillows, and then struggled to get her body under the blankets.

"Oh the cleverness of you! I never would have known that." Her lids grew heavy, and yet she still struggled to fight sleep. "Oh, you have earrings!"

The half-conscious lady jolted upright, and her pointed finger lurched forward at the ornaments.

"How pretty!"

"What extraordinary observation you have. Now, please lie back down." He gently pushed her back again. She yawned and her eyes shut all the way. She almost melted into the softness of the bed while releasing a sigh of content, and the captain was able to free the covers crushed under her weight, and tuck her in the way a mother would.

"You are so kind to me...I think I enjoy your company very much." Her voice was a low murmur, and she couldn't reopen her eyes.

"And I think you are foolish and naïve. You trust me far too much when you shouldn't...My dear child, I am a cruel pirate. For the majority of my life, I have been perceived as a terrible and evil enemy meant to be defeated. The villain, so to speak." Hook whispered so not to rouse her. He noticed how the girl's breathing started growing slower and steadier.

"That's what they thought you were...But that is not what you are."

"And what do you presume I am, then?"

"A man. What else?" A final yawn, as she turned over to the other side facing away from him. Her last words barely reached his straining ears, and soon sleep overtook her. And something strange overtook Hook.

Her fiery hair was sprawled all around her, creating a halo of curls. She was quite a lovely little thing, and Hook couldn't help admiring and appreciating her comeliness as any human would.

For some odd reason, she almost never perceived him to be a threat, despite the glimpses of anger she had seen in his outbursts. He remembered all the times she's thrown herself into his arms, and how she had almost grabbed a hold of his maimed arm a week back. She had gazed at him with such a pained expression etched onto her features, and Hook still didn't quite understand what had come over the girl. Was she not disgusted by his disfigurement? Did she not find it horrendous?

She was just so unpredictable. Most of the time, she presented a happy smile that dazzled like the waves. And at others, she was dragged to the very trenches the despair, and into the pit of murky emotions Hook knew too well. She was more than capable of feeling malice, jealousy, and disappointment. But how could she not?

 _"I'm not going back to that prison."_

He remembered her distress the first night he met her. Like him, she was bound to her world. Chained inside of a glittering cage disguised as an opulent mansion. But unlike him, she had been able to break them.

Clara turned over towards Hook in her sleep, and she giggled. The captain stiffened, and still didn't move when he saw that the girl did not stir from her slumber. The lantern's light flickered across her features, casting a golden glow.

No. Clara was not like the ocean. She was like the sun, everything she touched grew warm. Being around her blinded one from anything else, and made one forget about shadows and crocodiles.

Without him knowing, his hand reached out and his fingertips grazed the top of her head.

"James..." She breathed his name in the faintest of whispers, and if Hook had not been paying attention he would've missed it. He blinked, before his eyebrows scrunched together. Had he heard correct?

He scrutinized her lips, watching to see if she'd speak up again. She did.

"James..." There! She did said it! Why? Was she dreaming about him? Why on earth would that happen? Perhaps she was just dreaming about everyone on the ship... Or, maybe she had a male friend back in London who happened to share his first name, which was also perhaps why she had the foolishness and audacity to call him that when they first met. Yes, that was probably it.

Hook struggled to try and come up with a sound reasoning to no avail. He couldn't help but stare at her, and he didn't notice how agitated he had become. Every part of him was on the edge, and the slightest of sounds would send him into a flight or fight mode.

"You better...Keep...Promise... Sword fighting..." She grumbled, before falling silent again. And the captain released a sigh. He decided to think more of it the next morning, when he was soberer and more clear-minded. And so he decided to just enjoy the view.

The woman had a sweet, mocking mouth with a hidden kiss perfectly conspicuous at the right corner. It symbolized the greatest adventure that Clara had yet to go on, which was finding the one it belonged to.

The adventure that Hook had missed long ago and had always wished for.

Wendy's mother, Mrs. Darling, had always had her special spot and not even her husband had access to it. It was something most husbands did not have access to, and yet Wendy had given hers to Pan. Wendy had given hers- Her "thimble," to _him_. And the boy never understood just how precious of a gift it had been; a lady had chosen h _im_ , out of all the other men in the world. Out of everyone else, _he_ had been the lucky one whom Wendy had truly shared all of herself, her longings and her dreams to.

The captain grazed his fingertips across the curve of Clara's soft cheek, marveling at how much warmth radiated from her. And eventually, they trailed down until they brushed against her lips. He stroked his thumb across them, and discovered they were smoother than he imagined them to be, and cold from the all the rum she had consumed. And all the while, the special spot stared up at him in a tantalizing manner and he found himself unable to look away. The longer he regarded the hidden kiss, he more curious he grew as to what it would feel like against his own.

 _Why in Neverland would such an absurd thought even cross your mind?_

He froze. No, it...It couldn't be _that._

 _What other reason is there? You've already lost your sanity years ago, have you lost your intelligence too?_

A small voice lurked at the back of his mind. He shuddered. Oh no... No, it couldn't be. Could it? Why...Why yes... What other reason is there? Why else would he always think about her and nothing except her?

Hook recounted all the times he caught himself studying her from afar. He recalled all the times they locked eyes, and how his stare lingered longer than necessary. And how Clara was the sole occupant of his mind. Ever since she had arrived, his entire focus in life had changed. He had practically discarded his original goal of vengeance, and the sole being who stirred any emotions whatsoever in him was her. She was not Peter's replacement, no. Still, he thought of her as much as he had thought of Peter in the past. The familiar habit of obsession was starting to creep over him again.

Hook was always watching the girl, worried of her leaning too far against the railing and falling into the water. And he worried over her getting lost as she always did, but somewhere he wouldn't be able to find her. And James Hook knew that he worried because of... _That_.

As terrible as it was, he was struck with the horrendous epiphany that... _That_ , was the reason why.

 _You are a supreme idiot. How could you have not noticed until now?_

Gulping, he glanced down. His hand still had not moved away from the girl.

He abandoned the room as fast as he could. Despite how much distance he put between himself and her, he was unable to keep his mind from wandering back to the image of her smiles and playful eyes. He already knew that his escape was futile, because she had already gotten under his skin. She truly was the sun, and like a fool he had already gotten too close.

Close enough to burn.

* * *

 _My Fair Readers,_

 _I had extreme difficulties writing this chapter and the one prior because romance oh my. I hope it wasn't too much, and I hope I did okay enough for you not to cringe. I am quite new at writing romantic relationships, and funny friendships are more my speed. But I hope that so far I have not completely failed in terms of creating believable chemistry/attraction. If there are any pointers or any thoughts on what you would like to see more of or less of, feel free to badger me. And your comments are always so sweet and kind and polite! So far no one has ever said anything mean so far which is amazing since I've asked people to directly insult me because some attention is always better than no attention lol._

 _But all jokes and self-criticism aside, I thank all of you for your very helpful reviews and the wonderful amount of support you all give. **MusicalsandMordreds, theusualguest** , and **VelvetGoldie** , you are all such lovely people who keep on cheering me on and motivate me to work hard and not be lazy. I am honored for those who follow this story as well, because that means you actually read my writing and that really keeps me going too!_

 _Anyway, I'm sorry for rambling. I hope your days are filled with happy thoughts!_

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_

 _-P.S, I hope this wasn't too long yo._

 _-P.P.S, the next few chapters are long chapters, and because of that(and because I'm still writing them) their updates would be a little longer than this one, and so I apologize ahead of time._

 _-P.P.P.S you are all such lovely people._


	15. Chapter 15

**Change**

When Clara woke up, she found herself back in her room again on the Jolly Roger. There was the sound of creaking wood, and everything rocked just the slightest. But then her attention was drawn to the dryness of her mouth and her pounding migraine. Groaning, she sat up, and her limbs ached. What had happened last night?

Recollections of the marketplace and the tavern started fading into her mind, but she couldn't remember past eating dinner. Now she knew that she had consumed plenty of rum because of her current physical state of dehydration, but she did not have the memory of doing so. But her confusion and mild panic was blocked with the fresh image of a pair of blue eyes. And the thought of seeing them in person sent the alien feeling of excitement though her body, and so the girl promptly and quickly got dressed before going out onto the deck.

Several men including Bruce were tending to their duties. Mr. Garner the helmsman, was steering the ship as he should be, and there was a soft breeze as the sea vessel traveled across the waters.

Her ears perked upon catching the rise and falls of baritone voice. Glancing up, she spotted the captain speaking with some crew members about something. Allowing her wave of enthusiasm to take full control, she began to grin like a madwoman while waving her arm.

"Captain! Captain good morning!"

Her booming call caused everyone to turn their focus in her direction, and the daily activities were put to a halt. Oblivious that she had caught everyone's attention, Clara skipped over to the man of target and didn't stop until she was right in front of him. She was beaming and her cheeks were flushed, and she could barely contain the giggles that threatened to spill over.

One side glance from Hook and everyone whipped back to their duties, and they knew not to turn around again. The two men he had been speaking with dismissed themselves, leaving him alone with the "cabin girl."

"Have you had your breakfast, sir? Do you need help with anything, sir?" She blinked up at him.

"Yes. I've already had lunch as well, it is afternoon." The man swallowed a sigh, his expression unreadable. Clara blinked upon hearing the cold tone lurking behind his calm facade. There was something a bit different about the way he regarded at her, even though to others there wouldn't have been any change. Was she just imagining things?

"Oh...Then good afternoon in that case." Her smile faltered the slightest, but she continued her conversation with him. "I have no recollection of what has happened last night, nor do I recall how in Neverland I arrived back here... Had I sleepwalked?

"I had Bruce carry you here when you could not wake in the morning. I must say, you are quite a heavy drinker." He smiled, but Clara saw the uneasiness and tension that seethed inside his eyes. She also didn't fail to observe how the captain's feet were turned away from her, as if he wanted to leave.

"I don't have recollection of last night's happenings. "

"Well be glad you don't, you made a fool of yourself."

She let out a sheepish chuckle.

"I'm sure I did...How drunk was I?"

"You were so intoxicated you could not walk to your room. It was quite a disgraceful sight." There was a jerkiness to his movements, similar to that of an agitated animal wanting to flee.

A brief echo of a memory flashed across her mind.

"Oh that's right! I recall you carried me!" She beamed while giggling, and didn't notice when several men's head snapped to gape at them both. And all it took was one glare from their leader for them to all avert their gaze again.

"Miss. Clara, you are rather loud." He barely stopped himself from hissing through gritted teeth. And the look of absolute joy in her glittering green eyes only fueled the storm that brewed.

"I apologize, I am a tad bit of a loud mouth." Whispering and cheeks flushing, she let out another giggle. And a prick of irritation coursed through Hook when he found himself not hating it. But he then began loathing how he could not loathe her, and soon his foul mood and conflicting emotions showed on his face.

Despite feeling a bit on edge, Clara continued beaming up at the man.

"Is your back alright? You didn't sprain it because of my heavy weight now did you?" She still spoke in a hushed manner, and her usual perkiness was too much for him to bear. It was almost as if she was genuinely concerned!

 _But she is simply curious. There's no way she could possibly care for someone like you._

"In the future, I would much appreciate it if you referred to me in a more respectful manner. I am your captain and commander, and I expect you to treat me as such. Now, I think it's time for you to go to Smee and help him with his duties."

The sudden sharpness of his tone caught Clara off guard, but it didn't deter her playful banter.

"Oh, are you embarrassed by me?"

Her smile only made him realize of how young and vibrant she was. And it didn't help that his gaze wandered down to that very tantalizing spot at the corner of her lips.

"That's enough now. I am extremely tired and do not wish to speak with you any further. I do not care if you bother Smee or the others, but you will stay out of my way for the rest of the day."

 _"She is to stay in her chambers and far from me."_

The memory of another man with green eyes came into mind. He was always speaking with a maid rather than to her.

A small, sprinkle of anxiety lingered at the shadows of her mind like a dark cloud, and little did she know that there were now real storm clouds hanging in the horizon.

"Oh, come now. Don't be so upset sir. You know I was joking." She lightly jabbed at his arm with her elbow, and as soon as she did Hook snapped.

"Enough! I said enough!" He slammed his claw onto the wood railing. Small splinters flew off the fresh wound, and the talon left behind a deep scar. "I have had enough of you and your antics!"

He tore his gaze from her, as if he couldn't stand the sight of her, just like how another always did. And the all-to familiar ache that wrenched at her gut returned.

"I...I apologize sir... What...What have I done?"

"What have you done? I am simply and utterly tired of your constant chatter and presence in general. You are nothing more but a nuisance, and I will no longer tolerate your insolent behavior! Not once have I ever had an intelligent conversation with you, and not once have I ever enjoyed being around you. It is exhausting to spend even a minute in your company."

She stepped back as if she had been slapped. But it wasn't his utterances that impacted her: it was how he scowled at her so. He glared at her in such a cold manner, with complete and utter disgust oozing from his eyes.

"Oh...I... It wasn't my intention to irritate you so much..."

Hook did not fail to notice how the sky turned gray, and how the clouds began to darken. He also thought he heard a slight thunder whispering in the faint distance. But he knew for sure that he felt a terrible ache tightening in his chest when he suspected she was about to cry. Saying nothing, he turned away so he wouldn't have to see the look on her face.

"If...If I am so troublesome...Then...Then, why have you tolerated me for so long?"

"For purposes of revenge. What else?" He sneered. "I thought you had known that obvious fact from the start, my dear."

"You aren't fooling me in the slightest! I know you're not that one-dimensional! I know why you brought me here, but you had no obligation to keep me alive! And you seem to forget that I had come for reasons of my own! I walked with you on my own two feet because it was my own choice!"

"Oh, but you are painfully unaware of how gullible you are. You fell right into the palm of my hand far too easily... All I had to do was mention Wendy, and you crawled right into my trap like a blind deer. It would have been more challenging to persuade a toddler to come with a terrible man like me."

"Sir, you can't... You can't possibly still hold immense hatred for my father... Do you? Surely you've changed, haven't you?"

There was so much hope inside of her eyes, but he also didn't miss the flicker of doubt that darkened them. The flicker of the disappointment to come. The captain's features hardened.

"He is the cause of all my sufferings. The day he took my hand was the day he bound me to this purgatory for all of eternity. I've wasted my youth chasing after him, and he's the one who trapped me in his game of cat and mouse for years and years. He does not have the right to freely walk away. He will pay as much as I have." The tangle of ugly words felt so hallow in his ears, and they sounded so false.

Both had been prisoners to the same cage. Both had served as the diversion for the other, and both had been stunted, incomplete individuals who killed time by trying to kill each other. Both depended on the other to have some sense of purpose, to have some form of stimulation and challenge: they had partially completed the other.

But the same violent "adventures" grew so monotonous over time, and Pan was the first to end them. Or rather, throw them away and forget them, leaving Hook to stare at the fragments of what once _was_.

Pan had long ago broken the cycling chain that intertwined them together when he left with Wendy. And Hook had tried rebinding them again out of desperation. But his hatred for the youth had been cooling, for boy's absence had been enough for Neverland to take effect on his mind. But the memory of his ugly obsession for justice… Or rather, vengeance, had been dying like a faint flame over time without his knowledge.

And the girl had been the one to open his eyes to that fact.

"I thought you had moved on! He's not even a shadow of who he used to be!" And yet now she was unable to open her eyes and see he was lying rather half-heartedly. But perhaps he had grown so good at it, it was impossible to tell when he was doing so.

"It doesn't matter. He is still Pan, whether he is a boy or a grown man. I do not care which Peter suffers."

"Revenge, revenge, revenge! That's all you were ever consumed by in the past! I thought you had changed! I thought...I thought that you actually..." Tears blurred her vision but refused to fall.

Hook was pierced with the sharp blade of guilt, knowing he was the source to her distress. But he had already dragged himself into the pit, and it was too late now to try and get out.

"That I actually what? That I cared for you?" He let out a wry laugh. "What a silly notion. Perhaps there may have been times in which I've found you to be mildly amusing, but that was all. There was nothing more to it."

"Pardon me? Mildly amusing! Was I nothing more but a distraction to you then? An insignificant toy for you to be entertained by?!" A hot uproar of loathing ignited her being.

He knew what exactly what to say next. It was easy to slip into the role he knew best, which was that of a villain: he had been playing it for most of his life anyway. What other part could he mold into? And with each passing second, it only grew more and more clear of who he was.

And he only realized how she would always shine blindingly bright and beyond his reach.

"You are a painful reminder."

Clara's face drained, leaving a vacant expression that made Hook turn away so he didn't have to see it.

 _"I do not wish to see her."_

Mr. Banning had never addressed her in person. She couldn't fully remember what he looked like now, for she rarely saw him growing up.

 _"Tell her I am busy."_

Red eyes and empty bottles. Sometimes there were shards of broken glass too. She caught split-second glimpses of him, but all she ever saw was his door.

"A reminder." Bitterness crept up and spilled over to her features. But her voice sounded so withered, so tired. It was as if it would break any moment like fragile china, that one blow from the wind would snap it in half.

In the distance, a rumble of impending lightning murmured its threat and insinuated of the roaring disaster to come.

"Thank you for making things clear for my dull brain. It was quite... Enlightening. I shall try and exercise more caution when around you, sir. Because I would hate for you to become so irate you end up shooting someone only after one strike." She bowed her head, and her hair fell forward to veil her face from view. Every part of her slumped. Of course, she meant nothing to him and she was still a delusional fool. What had made her think otherwise?

"Have I made things clear for you?" He noticed the dramatic shift of her mood. And of the weather... Had he gone too far?

"Crystal. I think I shall go now, since my company is so clearly unwanted." She walked away without saying another word, and Hook forced himself not to glance in her direction.

* * *

 _Dearest Reader,_

 _I have written up to chapter eighteen, and I will try to post chapters when I have already written the three future ones(so that I may have more time to edit). I hope I did an alright job with this chapter, it took me a little more time to write it despite it being shorter. I had actually worked on the chapters that came after this and finished those before completing this one._

 _As always, special thanks to **MusicalsandMordreds** , **VelvetGoldie,** and **theusualguest** for reviewing my story all the time and boosting my confidence and motivating me. You always put in such thought in your comments, and I often find myself rereading them a lot and referring to them when writing chapters._

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_

 _-P.S I really do not enjoy driving on the highway it is quite terrifying_


	16. Chapter 16

**Storm**

The wind howled and the ship lurched and sloshed on top of the agitated waves. Occasionally, there was the soft rumble of thunder that lurked in the horizon, and the sky always fluctuated from black to gray to insinuate the impending downpour of heavy rain.

Clara glared out at the scenery with neutrality masking her features, and decided the bitter weather that had been lingering for two days perfectly matched her foul mood. Sooty clouds whispered of her own dark rage, and the occasional salty splashes that pelted her skin stung as much as her own, unshed tears. And the violent waters threatening to erupt into a whirlpool was a reflection of the tempest that ripped her apart on the inside.

The Jolly Roger had arrived at Neverland's island that morning, and it was now evening. For two days, Clara had not once caught a glimpse of a certain man let alone speak with him. But that didn't mean she had not thought about him, no. In fact, he had been the sole occupant of her thoughts.

Crew members all had retired to their rooms to sleep or lounged about elsewhere, away from the girl. They had been wise to avoid the seething lady, because none of them had a heart strong enough to survive her rather harsh tongue lashings. Surprisingly, they found themselves cowering under her glare just as much as another person's, and decided staying out of her path was the most convenient option for them. After all, Smee and Bruce both learned the hard way to escape Clara's wrath at all costs.

And so, the young lady had the entire place to brood alone.

Still consumed by her emotional turmoil, the young lady failed to notice a small orb of gold light that floated across the ocean and in her direction. And of course, the glowing ball was none other than a certain blonde sprite. She landed on the railing, holding a leaf over herself the way a human would hold an umbrella. She stared expectantly at the mortal girl for a few seconds, and after seeing no response from Clara, the fairy cleared her throat.

The human lady turned and finally spotted the fairy.

"Tinkerbell?"

 _"That would be Miss. Bell to you."_ She pointed her chin up while glaring. _"Now girl, tell me where Peter is."_

Clara frowned.

"Pardon me?"

 _"Tell me where his house is so I may find him."_

Clara sadly shook her head.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

 _"You can and you will!"_ She stomped her foot.

"For your sake, I cannot."

The pixie glared, before throwing her leaf off to cross her arms.

 _"You just won't tell me."_

"Fine. I can tell you, but I won't."

 _"Why?!"_ A shrill shriek, and her glow flared red. Clara flinched, but answered.

"Because I fear that... That he may utter the forbidden phrase."

 _"Don't be stupid! Of course he won't! Just tell me where he is! Tell me where I can find him!"_ The pixie shrieked and Clara flinched. _"Please! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!"_

Clara swatted when the sprite tried biting bits of her face while stepping away.

"Alright! Alright! You can find him on Oakwood street! It's close to where the Darling home used to be!"

The sprite withdrew, while sticking her nose up in the air.

 _"Once I find him, I shall bring him back here to Neverland where he belongs. And everything will be alright again! Everything will be just as before. Just watch and see girl, I shall save Neverland and restore it how it was."_

Clara bowed her head while sighing.

"But Miss. Bell... He doesn't even remember how to fly."

She gasped, before her glow faded to blue. She stopped flying, and her feet landed on the wood.

 _"No..."_ Her voice was a feeble whisper.

"Yes...And I'm afraid he doesn't even remember he's Peter Pan."

Tinkerbell began to weep.

"Please don't be too sad. He isn't worth crying for." Clara's expression crumbled with despair and the clouds began to weep. Small droplets began to pelt down, and Clara drew a hand above the tiny woman to shield her from the wet.

"After all... He is one to easily forget things. I'm sure by now he's forgotten what I look like, and he most certainly has forgotten you a long time ago."

No response from the fairy. Clara sighed.

"You know... You and I are more similar than you think...We're both destined with the same, miserable fate." A tight lump hard to ignore formed at her throat, and she nearly choked when trying to force it down again. "We're both chained to the horrible curse of always loving but never being loved."

A flash of ice-blue eyes. And the sting in Clara's worsened. But she grit her teeth and rapidly blinked. But the downpour only intensified.

 _"No... No! We do not!"_ A small flare of red. _"How dare you compare me to the likes of you?!"_

Clara scowled.

"Don't act haughty now. You and I know very well we've been rejected quite terribly. Peter chose Wendy over you."

 _"No!"_ Miss Bell was akin to a ball of fire now, but Clara kept her hand hovering above the sprite's wings protectively. A flash of lighting in the distance. Scowling, she knelt down.

"Yes, he did." Her voice had grown chillingly cold and calm. The pixie noticed the harshness of her glower, and grew tense.

"He chose her, because you are just that unlovable. You are a obnoxious, useless, and terribly irritating. You can't do anything right and you get too carried away by your emotions. It's no wonder one cares for you."

Her glow faded to blue. But this time, there was a blackish hue that settled in her they know, underneath the heaving ocean something slippery swam about.

Many somethings, in fact.

Strange creatures with gaping pits as eyes and mouths stared up at the source of emotional turmoil. Their slimy, silver tails slithered with the rest of their body, and their wet, webbed fingers began reaching out. Their beings craved for the large amounts of loathing and despair that hung around the air like a dark fog.

And the murky emotions weren't coming from the pixie.

 _"He does! He does care for me!"_ Her voice cracked, and she trembled violently.

"Oh really?" Clara snorted. "Then how come he's never come to visit you?"

One by one, each ashen siren popped their slimy heads out, but because Clara wasn't paying attention she did not sense their presence.

 _"Because he...He..."_ She struggled to find an excuse. But it was of no avail. Clara sneered. And a loud growl of thunder boomed, as if to match the sudden surge of malice the girl felt towards the winged being in front of her.

"I am right and you know I am. Accept it Miss. Bell... You and I? We'll both die alone and unloved."

It took a minute for the girl's words to sink in, but when it did, the fairy's glow flared to its normal color.

 _"No! I don't believe you! You are wrong! You are a grownup and grownups lie! I will see and decide for myself!"_ Tinkerbell gripped tightly onto her leaf before taking off into the second star, leaving behind a trail of dust.

As Clara watched the small ball of light faded away, she allowed a frustrated sigh escape, before forcing her blurry vision down on the choppy sea. And only then did she finally spot her silent eavesdroppers.

She gasped and bolted upright.

"Mermaids..." Even though she knew that they were creatures attuned to the dark and would sweetly drown her, Clara couldn't help but stare at them, utterly entranced. Without her knowing, she leaned closer and closer past the edge.

Their voices were strange clicking's and chirps, sounding something akin to birds and dolphins. But when Clara strained her ears enough, she could decipher faint whispers that echoed at the shadows of her mind.

 _"Don't be sad...Be happy."_

 _"Come swim with us."_

 _"Forget them."_

The pair of green and blue eyes flashed before her vision the exact moment white flashed across the sky. Clara's body moved on it's own, and she kicked off her shoes without realizing what she was doing. Her vision grew fuzzy and the sound of her own thoughts died.

All of the sudden, everything erupted into a maniacal melody of violence. The waves roughly threw the tiny boat around in palms of its hands, the way a child would toy with a ball. The ship jerked and spun, and Clara was thrown backwards to the center of the deck.

 _"You'll never have to be hurt by them again."_

 _"Come with us, we'll take care of you."_

 _"You can become one of us."_

They sang the words in the form of a sweet serenade of temptation, and it enticed every part of Clara's soul. The sirens continued luring her in with their soft lullaby, and the girl dragged herself towards them while fighting against the elements that pushed her back.

 _"There's so much prettier things where we live."_

 _"And do you know what the best part is?"_

"What?" Clara's lips were numb and rigid like the rest of her body, as she was completely drunk on the sound of their voices. But both her hands were on the railing again, and she was standing straight.

 _"Mermaids don't feel anything."_

Clara threw one leg over.

"Nothing?"

 _"Nothing."_ They grinned up at her, flashing her their white fangs. And Clara now brought her second leg over. She now sat on the edge.

 _"Jump."_

 _"We will take care of you."_

 _"Come with us... We can drown those terrible men together."_

Fear gripped her heart, but clarity was crumbling to a hazy blur of confusion. And so she just sat, staring.

On the other side, the captain's eyes shot open.

He felt the boat thrash wildly from side to side, and he bolted upright when a roar of lightning echoed across Neverland. And immediately, his gut wretched and his instincts screamed something was not right. A gush of wind and salt water rushed in when the door opened on its own. Hook stood and briskly moved forward, and was almost immediately drenched as soon as he stepped out.

On the deck, he could see several of his men scrambling to their posts. And Smee was ringing a bell while running in a frantic manner.

"All hands on deck! All hands on deck! Hurry now! Hurry!"

As more and more dirty heads came into view, Hook's stomach sank more and more when he didn't find the one he was looking for. He whipped around, scanning the ship once again.

Nothing.

"Smee!"

"Aye?!" He continued ringing.

"Where's the girl?"

"The lass? Er..." The old man looked, but couldn't see anything anyway because his spectacles were covered with fog and moisture. "I dunno Capt'n! I-"

Hook took off, his pace closer to a mad sprint than a walk. His eyes darted all around, searching and searching for a head of ginger hair that wasn't there. He barged into her room, the kitchen, and all the other places he could think of while tossing men out of his way. And then he returned to the deck.

Nothing.

"Clara!"

Only the sound of boots and the wailing wind. A lurch nearly flipped the boat, and all the occupants toppled over. Water rushed across and swept several down.

A woman's scream pierced the air, and his movements grew more frantic. He struggled to reach the railing, but before he could drag his heavy body up to a standing position, the ship swung up once again. And Hook found half of himself dangerously hanging out. And because he was staring directly at possible death, he was able to spot a swarm of moving bodies.

His eyes widened when he saw a flash of orange hair slipping under.

He bolted upright and in a split second whipped out his gun. He shot at the gray bodies around her, and the ones he hit hissed shrill shrieks. They released the girl before disappearing, but the others circled her like hungry sharks. he continued shooting, and most of them quickly retreated down to safety and abandoned their prey.

The white form writhed and twisted as it neared the surface. Was that a hand? It was! It wasn't webbed, it was human.

"Clara!"

Shortly her gasping and sputtering head popped out. But she was only out for one second, because the next she had been dragged under again.

And he lunged in after her.

* * *

 _Dear Reader,_

 _Dun dun dun! I can be overdramatic I know but why not? Drama is good for fiction I hope. Well, petty drama isn't but I hardly think drowning isn't really petty business._ _So far, everyone has been so very supportive of me with this amateur tale, and it does encourage me quite tremendously. I adore each and every one of you, but of course I give my special affections to **MusicalsandMordred** , **theusualguest** , and **VelvetGoldie** for always giving me such wonderful feedback that took time to write. Also thank you mystery person who has also left a kind review: if it's not obvious already I too have an obsession for Peter Pan._

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	17. Chapter 17

**A Long Night**

Hook dragged her limp body away from the waters and across the sand. Various scratch and bite marks marred his arms, and parts of his shirt was ripped and stained with blood. His breaths were shallow and ragged, and he was soaked to the bone. His left wrist throbbed and pulsated from all the force being exerted, but he ignored it.

But what he could not ignore, was the heavy burden of dread looming over him like a dark shadow. He couldn't control his rapid breaths and thrashing heart, nor how violently he shook.

Once they reached dryer ground, he released the girl and knelt beside her. Her skin was turning ghostly blue, and her eyes were rolled to the back of her head. Her purplish lips were parted slightly. He leaned over and strained for any sound coming from her, and a new tsunami of foreboding crashed over him.

She wasn't breathing.

Hook's stomach clenched and a bonfire of panic ignited. He pressed his fingers to her wrist, and found a weak pulse.

Positioning himself to the side, he quickly removed his hook and commenced chest compressions. After pumping for a while, he tilted her head and lifted her chin. Pinching her nose, he opened her mouth and covered it with his own before blowing twice, before resuming chest compressions again. He continued for a minute, but she was still unresponsive.

A feverous sweat broke out, and if he wasn't focused on the task of restoring the girl's consciousness, he would've lost himself into fits of hysteria.

After two more minutes, Clara threw up water and began coughing. Every part of her was pierced with cold, except for her throat which burned as if it had been set aflame. Her lungs was also ablaze with the same sensation. She groaned and struggled to open her eyes.

Hook barely stopped himself from letting out a cry from the gush of relief he was overcome with.

"Clara? Clara can you hear me?" A breathless voice called to her. He sounded familiar...Where was she?

"Miss. Clara, please open your eyes."

She succeeded in doing so, and the first thing she noticed was the familiar pair of blue ones staring at her.

"Captain?" Her voice was closer to a gurgle. She cleared her throat, and winced upon feeling a ripping sensation tearing at her throat. Her vocal chords throbbed. A leaden heaviness possessed her aching limbs, and a every part of her twitched.

Wincing, she tried to sit up. Hook immediately placed his hand on her back to help.

But as soon as he made contact with her, Clara gasped and wrenched herself away. She scrambled back while emitting a hissing type of sound.

The way she searched frantically for an escape reminded him of an animal caught in a trap, and he half-expected her to start clawing at him. Her breathing was hoarse and closer to pants, and Hook feared she would pass out again. But her reaction wasn't unexpected: after all, she had come extremely close to being drowned by "sweet" creatures.

And so he withdrew.

"I apologize for startling you." Hook quickly glanced over the girl, and found minor cuts but nothing more serious.

Clara quickly scanned her surroundings, taking note of how both she and the captain were completely drenched with ice water. The woods she had lost her way in a week ago loomed over them, now far more ominous because of the dark.

"What happened?" Her voice was a faint whisper, but each passing second she regained more and more clarity.

"You fell off the boat. Or rather, you were lured." Hook took in deep breaths, but it didn't pacify his heartbeats at all.

She recalled how they had sang to her in so. The whisper of their lullaby still tickled her ears and send fresh chills crawling down her spin. She grew frigid with fear once more, and her breathing hitched upon the thought of black talons scratching and grabbing at her again.

"I almost drowned." Her voice was raspy and on the brink of breaking. He saw the moisture glossing over her eyes, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

"But you did not. You are still alive, and you will be alright." The fresh memory of his state of near-hysteria rushed to him like the tides lapping towards them.

Clara looked at him, as vulnerable and as afraid as a lost child. Another cold breeze whipped past, and she leaned into his touch involuntarily. He was surprisingly warm.

"Where are the others?" A thick fog of panic set in. She shivered again, and crumpled into a tiny ball while goosebumps popped up on her skin. Hook marveled at remarkable recovery from her near-drowning, but painted his features blank.

"Still somewhere at sea."

She finally noticed he was without his metal appendage. The captain caught her stare, and swiftly grabbed the ligament lying discarded next to him, before reattaching it.

"We need to go into the forest."

Her stomach dropped. The image of small boys with sharp fangs came into mind, and her muscles tensed.

"Right now?" The words sputtered out before she could stop them.

"Yes, otherwise you'll freeze to death out here in the open. We need to build a fire and we need shelter." He looked down, she was not wearing any shoes. With a quiet sigh, Hook knelt while turning his back towards her. And there was a moment of silence fell between the two, Clara blinking and not understanding.

"Get on."

Immediately some heat returned to her face.

"But! I... I..." Her voice faded into a pathetic squeak, and she found herself no longer able to speak.

"Miss. Clara, this is not an appropriate time to become shy. We are in quite a precarious situation at the moment, and I'd appreciate it if you would do as I say." His harsh tone warned her it wasn't a suggestion. And so, without saying another word, Clara hesitantly wrapped her arms around the captain's neck and secured her legs around his waist.

And once he had her tightly gripped in his arms, he stood with a grunt and began marching into the deep woods.

The girl's body was violently shaking, and she was the same temperature as a slab of ice. Hook quickened his pace, careful to dodge twigs and branches and gripping tightly so she wouldn't slip. All of his senses were sharpened, and he took note of every minuscule detail surrounding them in the dark forest tinted in deep blue. He tried his best to move quietly so as not to disturb whatever possible monsters lurking in the shadows, and focused solely on did his best to shut to images of her limp and bloody, or cold and unresponsive again.

And Clara did her best to shut out the fact that space between them was nonexistent.

She could feel the warmth radiation from his body, and because she was pressed up so close she could actually feel his muscles moving each time he took a step. Her brain was reduced to nothing more but a melted puddle of confusion, unable to piece together her current situation or the events before. One minute she was on the Jolly Roger, and the next the captain was carrying her? It didn't make any sense... Why was it only she and the captain who had fallen into the water? Coincidence?

Closing her eyes, she tried her best to even out her breathing. She recalled how she had fallen into the water. Or rather, was lured. And then...And then she woke up, every part of her cold except her lips. Wait...Why was it that only she and the captain ended up on the beach?

Her eyes flew when an Epiphany struck: he had gone in after her.

She frowned and shook her head. No...No, he couldn't have. Could he? Well...it was the only logical explanation Clara could think of from the top of her head...But if he did leap in to her rescue, how did they end up on the island? Had he swum all the way while dragging her unconscious form along?

She froze once more as another epiphany struck: he had given her mouth to mouth.

It made sense now why when she woke up, he was but some mere centimeters from her face. But why? Why did he go so far? Two days ago, he was ranting and raving about how much he hated her and how much of a pest she was. He claimed to not care for her at all, and yet his actions spoke otherwise: had he actually jumped off of the boat for her? No... He must've fallen off... Or no? It couldn't have possibly been a coincidence...

Well... Even if it was he had still swam them ashore.

Clara grinned, and for a split second all the ugly emotions she had allowed to torment her for days lifted. Warm, tingling feelings of satisfaction fluttered inside her heart, and she rested her cheek on his back while releasing a content sigh.

He was always full of surprises, and he was never ever dull to be around. Clara thought to all the boys she in London: nervous, pale twigs who were all too shy to utter a "how are you." Yes, her dear captain was definitely different from them. He always seemed to know exactly what he wanted, and all means from shameless flattery and manipulation or violent threats to get achieve his goals.

But what in Neverland did he want with her?

What was his opinion of her? Why was he always sending her such mixed messages? Questions began creeping in, and the nagging curiosity made it impossible to keep quiet. Her confusion piled higher and higher, until Clara could no longer keep her mouth shut. She opened to speak.

"Captain, are we lost?"

Hook had jumped when she finally spoke up again, but was able to quickly regain composure and continue on their path for shelter.

"No."

And then Clara blurted her real question.

"Captain, did you give me mouth to mouth?"

The foreboding sense of dread tugged at Hook's mind, and he suppressed a groan.

"I had no other choice."

Clara could clearly hear the nervous tension in the captain's voice despite his best to sound neutral. But she ignored it, and allowed a wide grin stretch from ear to ear. He did care for her after all! Clara concluded men were quite strange creatures, and Hook was the strangest.

"Well, for starters you could have let me drown instead of jumping to my rescue. It would've been so much more convenient!"

"And it would've been such bad form." He grumbled.

"Aha! So you did jump into the water after me!" Her eyes glittered with triumph, and she stuck her chin in the air although he couldn't see.

Hook opened his mouth to deny her statement, but froze when remembering his earlier answer. He sighed internally, and cleared his throat.

"You are mistaken. I fell." He barely suppressed a cringe. When had he become such a bad liar?

"Is that so?"

He could practically hear her raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. It was simply a coincidence."

"You insult me captain. I may be a fool, but I'm not a complete idiot."

He sighed in defeat, and said nothing more.

"Oh, what is this? Not denying anything anymore?"

"I am quite tired Miss. Clara. I would appreciate it if you remained silent for the remainder of our wonderful walk through the forest. After all, you do not wish to be discovered and devoured by beasts, would you?"

He kept walking, and Clara regarded the captain for a bit.

"Are we really not lost?"

Hook turned his head back the slightest.

"Of course not!" He sounded as offended as he looked. Clara allowed a slight smile to form on her lips.

"Are you positively certain?"

"I've lived here longer than you've been alive. Yes, I am quite certain." He faced forward again and marched on.

"Where are we going?" Her tone was casual, as if they were discussing the weather. And he sighed.

"We are headed to the nearest cave, and I'm afraid we have no other choice but to spend the night there."

"Well, I suppose tonight will be the worst evening of your life then. After all, you're stuck in my horrendous company."

He sighed once more.

"Miss. Clara, I am really not in the mood to argue."

"I am not either... That is not the main objective of my speaking with you."

"Then what is?"

"I want you to admit something."

"And what would that be?"

"I want you to admit you care for me, and you didn't mean anything you said from two days ago."

"I thought I had already made it clear where you stand with me." His words were too rushed, to contrived. Scripted. There was too little emotion behind them, and Clara scowled despite him not being able to see.

"Stop lying Hook. I'm not a complete child even if I may act like one."

"Whatever you say my dear girl." His nonchalant tone made something inside of Clara snap. She started writhing and wriggling like a mad worm, and her legs kicked about.

 _Girl._ The word for some reason drove her to the brink of a hysterical rage.

"Put me down! Put me down this instant!"

Hook complied, and barely missed scratching her skin when facing her.

"Look at me." Huffing, Clara gestured at herself, while trying to hide her discomfort when feeling his piercing gaze on her.

"I am obviously..." She gestured at herself. "...Quite older than a girl. Do you not agree? I am almost in my mid-twenties! I may not be a full woman mentally, but...I am an almost woman!"

A haunting and horrible sense of insecurity washed over Clara upon uttering the word. Her? A woman? Hook had probably been acquainted with plenty of beautiful ladies in his lifetime... He probably saw her as a minuscule bud in a garden of roses.

"And I would like you to treat me as such... Not like a child."

Silence fell between the two for a brief moment. And Clara half-wanted to shove the words she had spoken into her mouth again.

"Do you even have the slightest clue on what that means?" Hook's face betrayed no emotions. Clara paused, her muddled brain struggling to piece together the puzzle she never bothered trying to solve.

"I... I know a little bit."

"A little bit." He mulled over her statement. "What do you know then?"

"Well... In London I was expected to marry a man. I couldn't stand the idea, mostly because my husband was to be chosen by my father."

Hook didn't miss how her shoulders slumped.

"But...I wanted to marry for love."

"How shocking. No one would have guessed." His tone was dry. "But I think you have no idea what love even is."

"Says the man whose been alone forever and who never bothered looking for it!" Because she was so carefully scrutinizing him, she didn't fail to notice the slight twitch resembling a flinch darting across his features. If she had not been paying attention, she would've completely missed the subtle change.

She softened her expression.

"But you are correct, captain. I do not know much about love. But...I do know when a man and a woman love each other, they become complete. And often they get married."

 _They become complete._

Hook kept his face blank.

"Marriage? That's all you think love means?

"Of course not! There is so much more."

"What? What else is there?"

"I... Um... I was hoping you would tell me."

"Are you implying you'd be willing to spend the rest of your life with me?"

"What? No... I meant...All I am sure about right now is I care very deeply for you."

 _I care very deeply for you._

"And... The thought of me meaning nothing to you...It...It's..." She bowed her head and bit her lip. But before Hook could respond or have time to process her words, something whizzed past his ear and hit Clara's shoulder.

She yelped and jerked, and Hook saw it was a dart with feathers at the end.

"Clara!"

Another sound of something whizzing. Something sharp and hard struck his back, and he grunted. Immediately, numbness spread all across his body and heaviness settled in his limbs.

Sinking to his knees, he squinted, trying to focus on the blob of color which was Clara.

"Captain? What is this?" Her voice split in three and was so far away like an echo. Before he could even think of saying something else, he completely sunk into darkness.


	18. Chapter 18

**Old Enemies**

When Hook woke up, the first thing that hit him was the terrible ache in all his limbs. Groaning, he glanced down to see that a thick rope bound his arms behind him. Numbness plagued his wrists, and he was lying on his side. He lifted his pounding head up, and the blurry world slowly faded into focus.

Clara was sprawled next to him, also tightly bound, and she too no longer had a sleeping dart lodged in her skin. Her head was titled backwards and there was drool dribbling from the corners of her mouth. Her legs were curled up under her, and her hair was splayed about in a wild manner. Bits of dry salt was lodged in the tangled strands, and it looked as if she has been dragged across the forest floor.

Hook snorted, but his mild amusement shattered as the memory of the events of the evening before rushed back to him.

The last of grogginess melted away and he jolted upright. All of his senses sharpened tenfold as he quickly scanned his surroundings. Both were in a teepee, and from the top opening light streamed in.

"Miss. Clara." He shifted closer, and nudged her with his knee. A groan from her as she frowned.

"Wake up."

"Five more minutes." Her speech was slurred despite not haven consumed any alcohol.

"We are in a dire situation, and it is imperative that you rise immediately."

"We are on the ship. What in Neverland are you talking about..." She yawned, and flipped over onto her stomach. But then she stiffened, most likely because she felt solid ground underneath her instead of a swaying hammock.

A few moments of quiet passed, before Clara bolted upright, eyes wide and frantic.

"This isn't the ship!"

"What excellent observation skills you have."

"What happened?! Where...Where?" She quickly surveyed where she had slept in. "What?"

"We've been kidnapped, my dear girl." Hook noticed how tangled and frizzy her mane had become because of her dip in the ocean.

"Again?" She crinkled her nose upon noticing she was tied in scratchy ropes. "By who?"

And at that exact moment, the tent opened. Clara and Hook both snapped their heads in the direction of their new intruders, and found a pair of Indian men standing before them. But they were given no time to stare, because the guards immediately walked over to them, their faces neutral. Hook remained still and silent. One grabbed onto Hook's arm, and the other Clara's. Hook stood on his own, but Clara had to be hoisted to her feet.

"Oh! Um... Where are we going?" She wasn't sure if they understood her or not. The one holding Clara gently led her on, and Hook followed suit.

"Hello? Um...Where-" She didn't get to finish asking her question, because she slipped into the blinding outside.

After adjusting to the blinding light, she as able to make out the village and all the inhabitants in it. And as she was continuously pushed along, Clara had the chance to take in her surroundings.

Clara often witnessed in history book hideous depictions of "redskins," as the political cartoons so politely put it. Long ago, she learned about the infamous incident of 'The Trail of Tears' that had taken place in America so many years before. Even now, Clara knew in London people spoke of "injuns" as a fascinating group of species who were in dire need of "civilizing". The only natives she had ever seen were on ink and paper, and so seeing them up close made her only angrier at how they were represented.

The real people were dressed in the most magnificent garments. The intricate beadings and embroidered designs all held some sort of secret, allusive message she would never know. The hours and hours spent creating each unique article of clothing resulted in a sea of vibrant colors that danced before her.

Clara spotted glimpses of shy children peeking from behind their mother's legs, eyeing Clara up and down with sparkling eyes. Other children were so as bold to point and say something in their native tongue to another, only to be shushed and pulled away.

The language was an alien melody of strange, choppy sounds that flowed in its own way. The pattern of the rise and fall of their voices was quite different from English, but there was something so lulling to it. The lower tones had a soothing effect of sorts, and Clara appreciated how there was no high-pitched, tittering, giggling sort of chatter she often heard during tea parties.

Clara was suddenly thrown, and she crashed to the ground face-first. Tiny grains and pebbles scratched at her skin, and she nearly swallowed a mouthful of dirt. A puff of dust swirled around her.

But then she spotted feet in front of her. Clara's head snapped up and she squinted.

Two silhouettes loomed over her. And as the dirt settled down again, she made out the image of a man and a woman. Both had more beads and designs on their clothes, and their interest was fixated more on Hook. He remained kneeling in a rather calm manner.

"Why Tiger Lily, you are as lovely as ever." The captain was the first to speak up.

"Hook." The dark woman spat the name like it was poison. She glared and her nose crinkled.

She was a tall, shapely figure with defined features. Red makeup was smeared across her eyelids, only drawing attention to how much they churned with utter repulsion and malice. Her indigo locks were tightly braided and fell neatly to her waist, and her head was adorned with a massive headdress adorned with feathers. And in her hand, she held a large, menacing spear that still had small bloodstains at the very tip.

She was the chief.

Clara's couldn't help but suck in breath while gazing at the dazzling, beautiful goddess standing before her. A rather deadly one, in fact.

And the scrawny man- or rather, boy, next was so lacking in every way in comparison. Clara noticed how skinny the he was, and how he was no more than sixteen. His hair was short and he did not have any visible muscles on his skinny form.

"I must say, you have grown up so fast. It only feels like yesterday you were no older than twelve." There was a smile threatening to spill at Hook's lips, as if he was catching up with a long-term acquaintance.

"And it feels like yesterday you tried to drown me." Her voice was melodic and smooth, but there was a slight accent lingering behind them. The mighty tigress glared upon seeing how little the man had changed. She was tense and ready to pounce, yet Hook remained relaxed and nonchalant, despite being face to face with danger itself.

He still did not perceive her as a threat in the slightest, and he didn't betray even a subtle hint of fear.

"Ah... You hold onto old grudges. How childish." The worried and exhausted man from the night before had been replaced with an extremely cold, proud figure with malice glittering in his eyes. The ghost of a sneer always lingered at the corners so his lips, and the neutral mask he wore almost gave the illusion he was bored.

The was an air of pride oozing from the tied captive, and despite their dire situation Clara couldn't help but feel that he was the one in control.

"Old grudges?" A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "You have been terrorizing our tribe since Pan had left. You pillaged from us for years, and forced us to retreat into the most dangerous part of the forest." Red flared to the very tips of her ears, and her agitation only increased upon seeing how well her enemy held himself together.

"You forced us to change our lives! And you dare call me childish?"

"If I recall correctly, I've only attacked your people once, and that was only because my own "people" were on the brink of starvation. And in that instance, there was a very small number of casualties. It was mostly the other pirates who have raided your tribe, such as the Black Birds."

"You were the one who started the years of suffering! And it doesn't matter if you personally have not. All pirates are the same, they are all monsters just like you."

A tiny smirk from him, and Tiger Lily didn't miss it. She shot him a look that could cut glass.

"You will give me the respect I deserve."

"Respect is earned, not given. And so far, you have not done anything honorable."

"What do you know about honor? You are a pirate. A killer. You don't value the lives of others."

"Don't act so righteous, it doesn't suit your character. After all, everyone knows you are just as much of killer as I am. And don't think I don't know about how what you did to win him." He shot a glare at the boy beside the princess, whose expression remained blank.

She growled and reached for her dagger. But before she could spring at him and launch her attack, her supposed betrothed blocked her with his arm. She scowled, but his stern, pleading look did not falter. She regained her composure, and slipped on a cool mask before regarding her enemy again.

And Clara silently watched the interaction like the rest, only she did not have the slightest clue as to what mystery event they were referring to.

"In two days, he is to be burned alive." The chief's command rang loud and clear for the entire tribe to hear. A wave of whispers rippled across the crowd, but silence immediately reigned once more when she raised her hand. "The execution will be the opening ceremony before our wedding."

Locking eyes with the captain, she smiled. Her fiancé slipped his fingers through hers. Hook didn't bat an eyelash as his fate was announced, but Clara gasped and stood.

"No!" Immediately spears and other sharp weapons were pointed at her. Tiger Lily held up a palm again, which stopped the warriors from impaling the captive. She had finally noticed Clara's existence.

"Please no! That is quite a cruel and inhumane!" Clara was eye-level with the Indian leader. "Can't you discuss it in a diplomatic fashion? I'm sure there are more suitable punishments instead of death!"

Tiger Lily eyed the girl, and frowned upon seeing the image of someone else. And Clara stared too, noticing how regal and refined the woman was.

"Death is the only punishment suitable for someone like him."

"But that's a bit harsh now, don't you think?" Clara laughed nervously, feeling everyone's penetrating gaze on her. But the one that unnerved her the most was the dark one of the beautiful woman before her.

The chieftess stepped forward, and her guards stepped away.

"Who are you?" It was more of a demand rather than a question.

"I am Clara... Nice to meet you?" If she was able, she would have offered her a hand. The bride's mouth slightly parted. She frowned, and then grabbed the captive's cheeks a bit too roughly.

"No...Are you her?"

Clara flinched, but didn't dare move.

"You are." Breathless, the dark beauty smiled.

"I am?"

"Pan's child."

Clara kept her face unreadable.

"How did you know?" She also kept her voice neutral.

The princess smiled and she radiated with warmth.

"You look just like him." And then, as suddenly as her benign expression came it vanished. Her features grew stony cold, and she regarded Hook from the side. "And yet you are with him."

"Yes, I am a pirate in training after all." Clara held her head high and proud. And if the circumstances were different, Hook would've laughed.

"We will spare you if you join us."

Clara's eyebrows snapped together, and her mouth dropped open.

"Are you telling me to betray my captain? I absolutely refuse!" She stuck her chin higher in the air. "I will die with him!"

Hook's eyes widened, but he quickly wiped his expression blank. Upon hearing her response, he froze and found himself at a permanent loss for words.

And Tiger Lily was struck with a very important realization as she studied his reaction. There was a pause, before the chieftess spoke up again. But her focus was still glued onto the pirate.

"He is only your captain?"

"What do mean by only? He is the man I've sworn my allegiance to, and as his loyal crew member I shall not abandon him! I will stick by his side until death do us part!" Clara didn't even flinch when Tiger Lily responded with nothing.

And the ginger was utterly unaware of the gravity of her statement.

Hook had been stunned into complete silence like the rest of the crowd. And the princess kept a close eye on him from her peripheral view, while keeping her main attention fixated on the female captive in front of her. The young women continued glaring at the other, neither of them moving. It was like two mighty predators facing off, both equal ready to strike. Stillness strangled the air, and everyone knew not to disturb it.

But one eventually had to break the trance and back down, and that one was Tiger Lily.

"I'll give you two days to change your mind." Her words were soft, meant only for Clara to hear.

"My answer will not change." She didn't bat an eyelash.

"Two days is a lot of time."

And all the chieftess had to do was whip around and walk away for several men to step forward and grabbed the prisoners. They were yanked to their feet, and both were shoved once more along the path they had come.

"Unhand me! I can walk perfectly fine!" Clara's screams were shrill and piercing to the ears, and she writhed about like a worm being boiled alive.

And they were dragged off in separate directions, and the last thing Hook saw of Clara was her kicking and hissing and clawing at her captors.

* * *

 _My Superb Readers,_

 _I apologize for the delayed updates, and so I uploaded two chapters at once in hopes to appease you(and also because these past two chapters were a bit on the shorter side). As you all have noticed, this story is now about halfway over! (I've planned out exactly what would happen until the end, which is chapter 35)._

 _Anyways, the short story as to why I have been experiencing minor writers block is because action is hard to write about because I am a pacifist potato who has never even pushed another child during Elementary School. And in the upcoming chapters (not the ones directly after dis one) there will be very mild, mild, mild violence, which is a challenge for me since I am not a big fan of extreme blood and gore since I am not a sadistic fictional character killer(unlike how the stereotype for "writers" suggest)._

 _But you dear reader, have been extremely sweet and awesome in sticking with this story so far! I am pleased to hear that there are some things that I have written which is acceptable, and I bask in the praise you bestow upon me in the reviews section. The kind souls called **thesusualguest** , **Musicalsand Mordereds** , **VelvetGodlie** , and now **Demigodathena** have all thrown me some blush-inducing flattery which fuels my already over-inflated ego *laughs Britishly while sipping tea.*_

 _Anyways, I hope to update and write faster for you. Thank you once again,_

 _-StrangeySilentSoul_

 _-P.S I am not British_


	19. Chapter 19

**Persuasion**

It was evening.

Clara sat alone, and pangs of hunger were now too overwhelming. Her stomach growled, and every part of her was weak. But what was more overwhelming was the burning sensation inside of her chest and intestines that made her squirm. She couldn't control her nervous twitch nor the heavy shadow of dread looming over her head.

The shadow whispering of what would happen after two days.

An image of the captain tied to a stake and burning made every part of Clara clenched and tighten, and the urge to scream and break into hysterical sobs was almost impossible to suppress. But suppressing it was absolutely necessary, because right in front of Clara's tent was her captors.

She had attempted bolting away several times, only to be pushed and pulled right back in. She had repeated the failed escape routine over and over again, failing each time and her starvation only intensifying. From morning to sunset, Clara had done nothing but desperately try to sprint away, be dragged inside once more, and then run out again. Clara knew that to others, it appeared she was going completely insane from panic. It appeared she was in a state of mania induced by her and her captain's rapidly approaching demise.

But in reality, she was trying to study and memorize as much as the village as she could.

Clara learned through eavesdropping that a totem pole was being prepared. Or rather, the stake in which she and the captain would be burned crisp on like meat. Her tee pee was located on the far right side of the village where Never forest loomed over. Based on her scattered quick scans, she learned each tent served a different purpose, and often the designs on the outside to of the purpose. The ones with blue embroidery were for sleeping, the yellow ones were full of food supplies, and the black ones were full of weapons like arrows, spears, and guns.

A lot of guns.

Already, Clara was forming multiple plans and variations of them all. She could perhaps sneak out... But which one was Tiger Lily's tent? Was it the biggest one or the second biggest one? She needed another look and hopefully catch a glimpse of someone leaving the tents to get a clue. After all, that was what she had been doing all day.

Before she could rise and break into another mad sprint of "hysteria," Tiger Lily entered. Clara flinched and involuntarily jerked. She remained still when the mighty warrior princess walked over and sat cross-legged before her.

The young bride's face was blank, and she had changed from the morning's robes to something simpler, and something with minimal beads and designs. She still was adorned with the intricate headdress signifying her status, and she still held her head up high.

"My men tell me you have caused a lot of trouble today."

And Clara made her eyes wide, and she started making her limbs twitch in a spasmodic manner. She tried to imitate a frightened child, and took extra care to lean back and away from the native ruler as if she was in fear. And her vulnerable appearance gave the fierce Indian leader perceive the captive as completely harmless. The captive kept her focus locked onto her captor's, and took note of every minuscule change and quickly review all that had happened throughout the day.

"I am sure you already learned resistance is futile. You are weak and outnumbered, and the only way to survive is to comply."

Tiger Lily wanted her to join them...But why? Other than being a descendant of Pan, whom the tribe had been good allies with, there wasn't a good enough reason to add Clara to the village. But the native woman made it quite clear she was keen on sparing her and only wanted to kill Hook. Also, through the small snippets of hushed gossip, Clara had learned that her husband was indeed significantly younger. He was a thirteen year old boy!

Yes, the princess was indeed a mysterious puzzle. One that Clara simply did not have time to or desire to solve.

"I have not changed my mind." Clara made her voice tremble, and she did not miss the tiniest of smiles flickering around the dark beauty's lips.

"You have a strong fire burning inside you."

"No, I believe I am just stubborn." She cleared her throat stood straighter.

"You refuse to betray Hook. Why?" Tiger Lily cut right to the question which had been nagging at her all day.

Clara started to see fragmented pieces of a plan coming together, and proceeded to carefully choose her words and keep her expression neutral.

"He is my captain of course. I am a woman of my word, and if I promise my allegiance to someone, I will not break it so easily."

"I find your loyalty admirable, but you are an ignorant fool. Your captain is a terrible monster, and you will not be dishonorable by cutting ties with him. Join us instead."

"But he has been nothing but kind to me! And surely it is impossible for him to be capable of doing the...The horrendous crimes you claim he has committed." Clara knew exactly how much like a naïve little girl she looked at the moment, and suppressed a smirk of satisfaction.

Tiger Lily frowned.

"I don't know what tricks and lies he's used on you, but you must open your eyes. That man is dangerous and a killer. He does not have your best interests in mind."

Clara mustered up a sorrowful smile and bowed her head.

"But... He is the only person who has shown me kindness. After all... My mother died long ago, and when she did my father's heart broke. He always drowned himself in his work or drank to dull the pain of missing her, and... He completely shunned my existence. Unfortunately... Peter died of liver failure. The doctors told me it was due to his drinking problem. And... The captain took me here before...Before I could be cast off into the streets. The terrible man you speak of is also the same man who has saved me from a miserable future."

Her sob story was mostly true minus some parts. But whether or not Clara's claims were fabricated or not, the chieftess easily fell into the trap of feeling sorry for her. Pity permanently etched itself onto her normally hardened features, and her cold warrior heart softened drastically.

"I see you are no stranger to tragedy."

Clara noticed how her captor stared off into the distance.

"Have you lost your parents too?" Clara made her voice quiver.

"Yes. The pirates killed my father."

Clara gasped. And the enemy faced her again.

"And Hook is a pirate. As much as he may have helped you, in the end he will betray you. It is only natural for him to stab your back you when you least expect it." As the native leader continued trying to persuade Clara into joining, Clara continued persuading her just how much of a "trusting" and "guileless" child she was deep down.

"No, he wouldn't...Would he? I...I certainly couldn't..." Clara painted a look of concentration, and tried to appear conflicted and confused.

"Have your parents told you anything about the man before they died?"

"They never got the chance."

Sympathy flashed across her features.

"Well, then I will tell you what you must know. When I was but a little girl, he bound and placed me in the water, waiting until I either drowned or for Peter to come. Thankfully he came, and he did defeat Hook that night. But the pirate never stopped terrorizing our tribe and always was a threat to the well-being of my people. After Peter left, the man turned completely mad. He may not be a leader of all the pirates, but he was the one who started the endless battles between us and the them. He was the first to order his men to into our village and take all we had. So many died of starvation or gunshot wounds. Because it was winter, the enemies kept coming back and took the little food we had for themselves. He is the same, ruthless killer from all those years ago, and he will not hesitate to hurt you if given the chance. You are Pan's daughter. It is impossible for him to truly care for you."

Clara forced tears to stream down her face, and made her tone soft and closer to a whimper. The look of heartbreak perfectly masked the prick of irritation coursing through her veins, and she could not help but be reminded of a child when regarding Tiger Lily.

"He cannot possibly be such a cruel monster! Not my dear captain!"

Unexpectedly, the warrior placed a hand on the sniveling girl's shoulder, and offered her a pitiful smile. And the captive decided perhaps crying was useful after all: both men and women seemed to fall weak at the sight of a lady's tears.

Especially those belonging to an especially stupid and naïve one.

"I trust him! He... He has only been nice to me and nothing else...I... I cannot possibly imagine my captain being the same monster you describe."

"My child, I believe he has tricked you. He is very good at manipulating people." She placed a hand on Clara's shoulder. And Miss. Freckles blinked in the most clueless manner she could muster.

 _"My child."_ Clara barely managed to suppress a smirk.

"Tricked me?"

"Of course. No one can truly be loyal to him knowing of his true nature."

"Will there be special training on becoming an Indian?" Clara slipped on the widest of grins while bouncing up and down a bit.

"I will make sure the village women teach you everything you need to know."

"Oh! Will I even get to learn how to use a bow and arrow? Will I even get to hunt? Will I get to wear beautiful tribal clothes as well?" Clara rambled as fast as she could, panting like an excited puppy. Tiger Lily laughed, and ruffled Clara's hair.

And Clara wanted to bite her hand.

"Of course. We will gladly accept you as one of us." Before Clara could make an exclamation of happiness, Tiger Lily's benign smile shattered. "But first you must demonstrate that you truly will dedicate yourself to us, that this is not just a mere trick."

Clara successfully hid her spike of anxiety by maintain her excited expression.

"Of course! Anything!" But her stomach sank and her heart clenched.

"Then come with me and do exactly as I say." The ice behind her words made Clara freeze over.

But the princess stood and Clara had no choice but to do the same. And when the leader marched out, Clara followed. And as the warrior started walking towards the opposite side of the village, the captive grew more and more uneasy but continued trailing behind.

And her mind and heart worked faster than ever as they drew closer and closer in the direction of where Hook was kept.


	20. Chapter 20

**Betrayal**

It was dark, and Hook could see the flickers from the fires on the other side of the tent he resided in. He could hear the chatter of the natives in the village, and he could smell the dinner his captors cooked. His stomach growled and his mouth was dry, but his physical exhaustion wasn't what ailed him the most. Every part of his aching body was tense with uneasiness, and his eyes always darted about but usually lingered on the shadows outside.

He had heard every attempt Clara made to escape, and she did so at least once every hour, and she had served as a way for him to keep track of the time. But ever since the sun had begun to set, there was no commotion whatsoever, meaning she'd been placated.

 _Had they shot her with another tranquilizing dart?_

The thought made his blood run cold. It would be highly dangerous for her to undergo the effects of the powerful sleeping drug again, for she probably had not eaten or drank anything. And the chemical was purposed for putting large animals such as bears and deer to sleep, not frail human girls.

 _What if she's already dead? What if they decided she was too annoying to tolerate?_

Hook brushed off the tiny voice lurking in the dark corners of his mind, and tried to keep his pounding head focused on escape. There was none at the moment, and every time he tried to think he'd be consumed in a deluge of panic.

He could already hear Clara's unearthly screams as her skin slowly began to blacken and shrivel to ashes. He was too consumed by the dreadful image of her burning flesh to notice when the flap of his tent opening, nor when two women slipped in.

"Hook."

Jerking, he glued his stare in the direction of the disembodied voice. And he blinked upon seeing the chieftess it belonged to.

She was scowling down at him with her dark eyes glittering with repulsion, and he promptly mirrored her expression of utter hatred, but in a more collected manner. And Clara studied his appearance, barely containing a wince.

His tattered shirt was barely hanging on for dear life, and the straps which held his surrogate limb in place was quite visible from the tears. Evidence from his struggle with the sirens from the evening before could clearly be seen, such as the dried salt which created tangled knots in his wild hair, and the plethora of scratches, bruises, and blood stains that riddled his torso and arms.

"Princess. How delightful it is to see you again." He shot her a small smile and spotted the girl who had occupied his mind from his peripheral vision. Neither of the newcomers could see the relief returning to Hook's senses.

"We only saw each other just this morning." The Tigress clenched her fists.

"Well I was dying to be in your company once again."

"Do be patient. You'll be dying very soon for my wedding, which I am thrilled over." She smiled, but Hook did not.

"Ah yes. I nearly forgot about your child-husband. I hope you enjoy raising him to be the obedient slave you desire him to become." He said the words with such indifference, and Clara would've laughed had they not been in a life-or-death situation.

Tiger Lily's face flushed blood-red, and her lips curled into a nasty snarl.

"How dare you! You know nothing about our relationship!"

"Well what I do know, is that he is still a growing child and has no choice but to marry you."

"Arranged marriage is the most sacred form of union! You have no right to question our beliefs and the great spirits!"

"Oh, and was it the spirits who told you to get rid of his former fiance?" He sneered when Tiger Lily's face turned even more red. "Jealousy is unattractive my dear. I don't think your new son- Oh pardon me, husband, finds you too appealing after what you did. And I'm sure your spirits don't find your actions to be honorable either."

"What I did was just! He was disobeying tradition! He was supposed to be mine! I had no other choice but to get rid of the distraction." She was clenching her fists so hard that her nails dug into her palms, and every part of her was shaking uncontrollably. Even so, the Tigress managed to regain what was left of her composure and speak in a calm voice once again.

"And even if he doesn't love me, at least he will remain loyal and never leave me." She turned to Clara, who twiddled her thumbs like a shy child. "Isn't there something you wish to tell your captain?"

The cheiftess spoke in a sickening sweet voice that made Clara's blood curdle, but she maintained her act. She glanced up for a brief moment but bowed her head again, drawing her lips into a tight line. She swallowed, mumbling inaudible words.

"Excuse me?" The captain he had a feeling he knew what she had said. Hook scanned Clara's face, and it betrayed nothing. Her features were still painted with remorse, and she wrung her hands together while averting her gaze.

"I...I decided to join the Indians."

Silence. It suffocated the air and sucked away any words Clara could have said next. She twitched under the heavy weight of both the captain's and the chief's scrutiny upon her. She tried to drown out the sound of quiet by listening to the erratic poundings of her own heart, and feared they were audible.

"You what?" Hook was the first to break the tension, and Clara almost was relieved. But she only grew tenser than before upon seeing the bitterness creeping into his face and hearing the chill behind his words.

"I...I don't... Want to be a pirate anymore..." She grumbled the words and allowed her hair to fall forward and shadow her features. Although the captive was careful to keep his face as blank as possible, Tiger Lily did not fail to miss the dark rage and betrayal bubbling underneath his nonchalant mask, nor did she fail to notice the small flicker of hurt flickering inside his eyes.

"Take his hook." She smirked.

All of Clara froze over, and she snapped her gaze up at the chieftess.

The urge to jump up and strangle someone overcame the captain, but being tied with ropes prevented him from doing so. He clenched his jaw and fist, and kept his expression unreadable. From his peripheral vision, he could see the girl hesitating, and he could see her building panic.

"W-what?" Her voice shook like the rest of her.

"I said take his hook." The Tigress didn't bat an eyelash as she repeated her earlier statement.

"But-"

"Prove that you are really with us and against him." She finally tore her glower away to stare at Clara. "If you don't do it, I shall have my men tie you up and you are to be burned with him."

Hook swore he saw the girl's face turn deathly white, and she gulped. And slowly, very carefully... She began to inch towards him. His heart sank and his stomach clenched as she went on her knees in front of him, and as her slim hands reached out.

Her obedience was worse than being repeatedly stabbed.

His entire body completely numb, and an unbearable tightness twisted inside his chest. When she knelt beside him, the sensation of being ripped apart into two tore across his being. As her hands lifted and neared the straps to his contraption underneath his shirt, a terrible pang similar to being shot rippled across his body. Part of him wanted to bash her pretty face into nothing but a bloody pulp. But he knew he could never place a single finger on her... Even if she were to hold up a gun against his face, he knew he wouldn't be able to so much as leave a faint scratch on her skin.

She was focused on the task, and her clumsy fingers fumbled. She was quivering, and she refused to look at him. But if she had, she would've been able to see past the malice in his eyes guarding the chaos of confusion, rage and grief. How was it possible for one, small individual to cause so much anguish?

When she leaned over to undo the final buckle at his shoulder, her lips were quite close to his ear. And because of this, she whispered two words that only he heard.

"Trust me."

If he had not been paying attention, he would've completely missed them. But Clara quickly retreated, taking along his only form of protection with her. She was standing beside his long-time enemy.

"I... Here you go." She spoke in a meek manner.

The warrior took it, without so much as blinking. And Clara peeked at the captain for a split second before averting her guilty gaze to the floor once more.

"I'm terribly sorry..."

"Whatever for?" His calm voice made her blink and glance up again.

"I... For...Um...Betraying you." Her stomach growled and her cheeks flushed. "But I'm just so hungry! And... I... I've always wanted to be an Indian too..."

Was she a fantastic actor? Was he being delusional in thinking she was? At this point, he couldn't tell anymore. He couldn't tell if she was lying or sincere. Had he heard the two earlier words correctly? No... He must've just imagined them.

"Do you truly wish to be one of us?" Tiger Lily's hard glower remained glued onto Hook as she addressed Clara.

"Yes..." She shriveled within herself in shame, like a puppy caught chewing on her master's shoes. And Hook just stared.

"Well done. Don't be frightened anymore my child." The warrior princess slipped on a gentle and almost motherly smile, brushing away some stray hairs from the girl's face and caressing her cheek. "You have suffered enough at the hand of this monster, and now you are truly free."

"Free?" She gazed at her new subject of her fascination. Her new object of excitement and fascination. It was the same way she had viewed him even just days before.

"Yes, and you are now one of us."

Her features lit up with that bright smile again. And something inside Hook ached even more.

"Oh. Really? I… I proved myself?"

The tigress nodded. Clara squealed in glee while jumping up and down.

"Does that mean I get to eat dinner with you?"

"Of course. We caught some deer earlier, and so there'll be a feast."

"I've never tried deer before!" She salivated and her stomach rumbled.

"You may join the hunt after a week."

Clara looked as if she'd burst with excitement.

He should've known. He should've known already that she was but a child, stuck inside the body of a woman. A fickle and capricious being, easily led on and easily fooled. She really was just a naïve girl who had followed him, only now she was blindly trailing after Tiger Lily.

Yes, she was truly indeed the spirit of her father. She was not bounded by anything at all: she had the luxury of owning the cruel heart and mind of a stupid child. She was whimsical and had a short attention span. She could probably only remain interested in one thing for a short period, and she mostly likely suffered from extreme intolerance to predictability.

The simple fact of the matter was that she had grown tired of him.

He was no longer the shiny new toy for her to play with anymore….And yet... He could not loathe her for it. No, even though she was betraying him he could not blame her. He understood her and her true nature, and so it was impossible to despise her.

He could not bring himself to hate her, and so he hated himself for not being able to.

"You will be my guest of honor for the wedding." The chief glared one last time at Hook, before turning to leave.

And the captive ripped his gaze away from the two ladies, staring blankly at nothing in particular. Yes, the wedding. The event in which he will be burned at the stake as if he was a piece of meat, while Clara would watch on as she happily enjoyed a delicious meal.

If he had just turned his head to glance back up again, he would've seen the desperate pleading in her eyes. But he didn't. He kept his gaze fixed in the exact opposite direction, and so he missed how she gazed at him longingly, and how reluctantly she forced herself to leave.

 _"Trust me."_

Yes, he had misheard. He had clung onto false hope. After all, he was starving and deprived of good rest. His brain was just pulling tricks on him. That was also the reason why he felt such an overwhelming amount of strong emotions. Yes, it was because he was tired and hungry.

 _"I want you to admit that you care for me."_

He stiffened upon the memory of her words from the night before. But look where caring had landed him!

 _"I care very deeply for you."_

And she had been so completely unaware of how deeply her simple statement rattled him to the core. He wanted to believe her so badly... And perhaps at the moment she did mean them. Perhaps...She had got swept up by her emotions and spouted nonsense. But the sincerity of her words no longer mattered.

She had left him.

And it was the right choice. It... It wouldn't have been just for her to die for his crimes as well. She was innocent, what had she done to deserve the death he was going to receive? No. This was for the better. She would be happy here, and there would be plenty of danger to stimulate her boundless crave for adventure. She would thrive, and live on. And eventually, she would forget...

He was always being forgotten anyway. But why did it devastate him so?

 _You idiot. It's because you love her, and you thought she had felt something for you too._

Every part of him grew cold and numb. Of course... Of course he had realized the simple truth when it was too late and when it didn't matter.

 _You are a fool._

Yes, his familiar fate of abandonment had returned to him once again. Of course, it would always be like this for him and he should've known. She had momentarily made him forget that he would forever be bound to the cold, and eternally chained to the lonely fate of darkness as he's always been.

Perhaps death really was the only adventure left for him.

* * *

 _My Fair Reader,_

 _I apologize for being a bit slow on updates, and so I posted two chapters at once as a peace offering ahaha._ _Thank you so much for sticking with me this far whoo hoo! As you can probably already tell, we are nearing some more action-packed scenes of the story, and I will try to work diligently on them. I am not exactly experienced in terms of writing climaxes (since I never finish anything lol) and so I will be taking a little more time, and having a test hamster-I mean, friend in real life read over it first before presenting to you all._

 _I realize that I've made some big promises to an exciting end for this story, and sometimes writers are unable to deliver. I will try really hard for that not to be the case, but I apologize ahead of time if at all what is supposed to be the most dramatic part of the story falls flat and disappoints. I am not saying this because I am overly critical, I just know that it is quite a common flaw most people succumb to and I am no exception(I have been procrasinating on actually writing the said chapters however. I've been a bit pre-occupied with Driver's Ed and suffering from minor Writer's Block/Burnout)._ _I will try extremely hard of course to please all of you, but my writing capabilities are still quite limited due to my inexperience. But hey, writing this story is fun (and I hope reading it was as well)._

 _Thank you my sweet reviewers: **MusicalsandMordreds** , **theusualguest** , **VelvetGoldie** , and **Demigodathena**! For dropping comments that still make me grin to this day. Kisses and hugs to you all hehe._

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	21. Chapter 21

**Old Friends**

It was now fall back in London.

Winter, spring, and summer had all come and gone. The policemen now only came once a week, and when they did, the visits only lasted less than a minute. Newspaper companies started publishing less and less gossip articles with the name "Banning" written across the top.

And in the largest room of the now infamous mansion, a sea of cracked and empty bottles littered the once clean floors. The bed remained undone and the sheets unchanged, and the walls were marked with dark, unidentifiable stains. In the midst of the mess, Mr. Banning held his fifth cup of vodka to his lips while silently regarding the kingdom of chaos surrounding him.

It had been a long day of work, but it hadn't been long enough. He wished that sleep was not necessary to live, for if he did not have to sleep then that meant he did have to stop working. He had practically begged the head chairman of the bank to work overtime, but the extra hours he spent could not save him from the thoughts that tormented him at home.

 _"Mr. Banning, we're sorry to inform you that there is still not a single trace or clue which could lead us to your daughter's whereabouts."_

He dumped the rest of his drink down his throat. He no longer could feel the burn that followed after consuming the liquid.

 _"We believe that she either ran away, or she was kidnapped. But either way, the percentages of her returning alive to you is slim. We apologize once again, but we have done all that we could."_

He shook his head and shut his eyes.

The faded image of another who had abandoned him long ago swept across his consciousness. But her dainty features...Her nose and lips... Everything merged into an abstract fuzz of nothing. The only thing he could remember was the color of forget-me-not blue, and how softly her melodic voice rose and fell as she told her lovely stories.

He bolted to his feet and nearly toppled over.

 _You are forgetting what she looks like._

A jolt of panic to shoot through him. Clumsily, he dragged his heavy, swaying body in the direction of the room he never visited. And without him realizing, he found himself turning the door handle of the chambers he had unconsciously forbidden himself from as soon as he stepped in, a flood of nostalgia washed over him.

The room was exactly as he had left it, only now everything had a thin layer of dust sitting on top. Faint images of her sitting by the fire. A box of old toys that she had once played with in the days she was but a school girl. He remembered how he had once told her they should sell them, but she had adamantly refused.

 _"Oh Peter, this is such a lovely home."_ He turned around, and saw her there in front of the window.

Her hair was falling out of it's neat bun, and she was dressed in her modest, blue gown she often wore when her friends came over for tea. Her rosy lips and cheeks were flushed, and fresh, happy tears were glistening down her face.

 _"I'm glad you find it acceptable, my darling."_ Peter saw a younger version of himself walk past, and gather his betrothed inside his arms. She sighed as her lashes fluttered shut, and they shared a brief kiss.

 _"Oh Peter, just think of it! In a week, we'll be living here...And perhaps within a year, we'll have our very own family."_ She rested her cheek on his shoulder, and the then-Peter planted another chaste peck but upon her head.

They married and moved in as planned without much trouble, and Peter never remembered feeling happier in that short span of time. The first months had been nothing but heavenly bliss he had never known before, the fairytale happily ever after.

And like a dream it was too good to be true.

 _"Oh Peter... Isn't she beautiful?"_

He remembered how she proudly gazed upon their bundle of joy. But around them the doctors and nurses swarmed about in a frantic manner in the cold, white room of the hospital. Her voice was always so sweet inside his ears. Her touch always so warm, so right. But on that day, she sounded as withered and weak as she appeared. Her usually radiant face had become so ashen and sunken in. Skeletal.

 _"Promise me you'll take care of her...Our baby...Our precious baby."_

She was nothing like the woman he knew and loved. He swallowed the tightness clenched at his throat.

 _"Promise me you'll love and cherish her... Our little phoenix."_

He remembered that red, alien being that wriggled and whimpered. That small, tiny human with hair of fire. He remembered thinking how her life was just beginning when another's was ending.

And then Wendy was gone. And at the moment, their creation began to screech and cry. _It_ was writhed as if it was being boiled alive, and it had the loudest, most ear-splitting cry he had ever heard. Its face was contorted with such deep wrinkles, and why it thrashed in distress Peter did not know. After all, it had made it but Wendy had not. It had stolen everything from her. It had stolen the sun that once shone inside of his Darling, leaving her in the smoky gray ashes of death as _it_ rose up into the light.

It was truly a phoenix indeed.

Peter released a sigh. His white breath faded as soon as it had come, and he finally grew aware of the stinging numbness his bare feet experienced from standing in the ice. He took in a deep breath, before regaining his composure and turning to go inside. Even though his vision was bleary from unshed tears and heavy from sleepless nights, Peter spotted a light of some sort from his peripheral vision, as well as the sound of bells.

Frowning he whipped around again, and squinted in the direction.

There! It was a huge ball of light! Was it the sun? Was it morning already? No... No. It looked like a light bug...And it was coming closer and an exponential rate.

Letting out a gasp Peter took a step back. And another, and another, and another. But the shrill sound of bells only grew louder in his ears and soon the flying orb whizzed past his shoulder!

Screaming, Mr. Banning wildly swung his arm around. His ears rang and all he could see was blinding white and gold flashing by.

 _"Peter!"_ He heard a voice. He screamed. He lashed out randomly and thrashed his limbs, and swatting and clawing whenever the sensation of wind rushed past. His drunken feet stomped and shook the entire floor. And soon, he tripped backwards over something and crashed onto the ground.

Shock jolted up his body, and for a moment everything was slow and buzzed.

 _"Oh it is you! A big you!"_ The glow slowly settled on his chest, and soon it dimmed so that he could make out the figure inside it.

She was a pretty blonde girl, with clothes made of various leaves. She tugged at a distant memory buried in the depths of his mind, and he could not help but feel that they had met somewhere before.

 _"Peter! Peter it's been so long!"_ The tiny lady walked across his chest towards his face, and left a trail of tiny footprints. All the man could do was blink.

And the sprite could barely contain her tears nor the urge to dance and skip. Sure, he had attacked her but why would he not? Peter Pan was always alert for danger and always ready to fight. But the human girl had been right… He was so old now. But it didn't matter. He was still Peter.

Her Peter, and now she could have him again.

"Demon bug!" He yelled her old nickname and cowered, and Tinkerbell turned quite red.

 _"E-excuse me?! Demon bug?!_ " She stomped her foot. _"Peter that wasn't very funny at all! I can't believe that's the first thing you remember about me!"_

 _"Back off you demon bug!"_ A young boy's voice rang across his ears. No... Wasn't that his own?

 _"Peter you meanie!"_ When was this?

More images flooded to him like a tsunami.

 _"Tink, we gotta return to London."_ How old had he been? Twelve? Thirteen?

 _"I don't want to see that ugly girl again."_ The same fairy in front of him now crossed her arms in his hallucination. No... Memory.

"Tinkerbell." He found himself whispering the name out loud without knowing. And upon hearing the phrase, the pixie's eyes welled up with tears.

 _"You do remember after all."_

He slowly sat up, and Tink switched to sit on his knee.

 _"We must go to save her at once! You must be the hero you once was!"_

"Neverland?"

The faded image of a beautiful lagoon sparkled before him. He remembered the sound of the rushing tides, the tropical scent that lingered in the air, and the breeze that. And of course, he recalled a very large ship that prowled on top of the waves.

 _"Yes Peter, the second star to the right and straight on till morning. We used to have so many adventures, and we used to fight him and his men every day!"_

"Him? Who? Fight who?"

 _"Captain Hook."_

Red flashes and a glint of metal. Peter winced and clutched his temple.

The vivid picture of his enemy flashed before him. He could now clearly see the long-forgotten figure he thought only existed in the realm of his dreams. He could see the man as if he was right in front of him, as if he just reached his fingers out, the figment would solidify to flesh. His nightmare was clothed in that all-too-familiar lavish crimson coat. Jet-black hair and icy eyes. He was a towering, lithe form, and the familiar look of utter hatred marred his pale countenance.

 _"Your daughter is there too."_

"My daughter?" He was breathless.

 _"Yes! We must go and fight Hook because-"_

"My daughter is...Alive?"

 _"Yes yes. That big dumb girl...What was her name...Clara? Yes. Clara is alive."_

He jumped to his feet and his heart lurched.

"Is...Is she really?"

 _"Yes."_ The sprite rolled her eyes.

"Take me to her! Right at once!" He was right in her face now. The pixie crinkled her nose upon being washed over by the strong scent of alcohol. But she soon forgot once his words sank in. Very part of her perked up, and she was fluttering in the air again while the brightest of grins lit up her features.

 _"Oh! Does that mean you remember how to fly?"_

Fly. The word sent a jolt of joy that he had not felt for a very, very long time. Distant memories of gliding across star-filled skies whispered to him from the boxes he had locked them away in in. Dreams of laughing and looking down on the world entered into his consciousness.

"You think happy thoughts."

He didn't realize he had spoken the words out loud.

 _"That's right Peter! You just think happy thoughts Peter, and you'll fly."_ She sprinkled dust over him, and it tickled. Peter's feet slowly lifted off the balcony when the thought of Clara sleeping safe and sound in her own bed came into mind. He lifted up past the railing at the thought of holding her tightly and not letting go.

 _"You can do it Peter, I know you can. You are Peter Pan."_ The name sounded so strange yet familiar. _"I believe in you."_

Images of tree houses and Indians. The sound of foreign creatures crying out from the forest, and a flash of silver tails. He remembered how he had been a part of it all...How could he have forgotten? Of course! He had taken Wendy there!

 _"That's it Peter, you're doing it! You're doing it!"_

He was now level with the roof, and he smiled and lifted higher and with less effort. But before he could begin soaring, a less welcome memory returned.

 _She was leaving you, Pan._

The man's voice returned again. Peter winced and stopped ascending or a split second.

 _"Remember, don't doubt yourself Peter."_ The fairy gazed at him with such unfiltered adoration. She was shooting him the look of hope he had seen so many times by his daughter when she was but a little girl. And he knew that soon it'd be replaced with absolute devastation.

Ignoring the throbbing in his brain, he brought up the image of her lovely smile and endearing little freckles.

The fairy flew on, and the banker stared at the trail of glitter left behind. He too began moving in the direction she had gone off on, but then he looked down. He could see the top of cars and other smaller houses below him. He was quite high from the balcony, and suspended in the air. Immediately his heart began to thrash.

 _She's forgotten all about you._

A dark, rumbling laugh. A flash of crocodile teeth and the ghost of a gunshot.

 _Why should she stay? What have you to offer?_

What if she _had_ left on purpose? The ache in Peter's chest tightened when he thought to all the times he had shut the door right in her nose. Dismissed her. Had a maid drag her out of his office. All the times he could hear her cries and sobs through the thin walls of their home, and how he had not gone to her. Had she really left on her own two feet?

No... Of course not... It was probably the man who haunted his dreams. Yes, he had probably kidnapped her! The man the fairy claimed to be called "Hook." He had to save her, bring her home. He had to make everything right! He had to apologize! He had to see her again!

But then a terrible image flooded his brain.

Beside the unforgotten adversary was none other than Clara, smiling. She gazed at the man as if he was the sun himself. His Clara, standing next to the pirate captain. Perhaps she would even giggle and bat her eyelashes shyly at him while looping her arm around his. His Clara, sticking to that dreadful man's side as she was fond of him.

Or enamored.

For the first time ever, Peter Pan began to fall.

* * *

 _Dear Dazzling Readers,_

 _I have finally gotten on task and written some chapters! And I decided that this updates should be a bit quicker since the last one was so late and I apologize once again lol._ _But yes my writing style is quite erratic, and after reading such uplifting reviews I basically finished/wrote the rest of/most of chapter 22, finished 23, and wrote more than half of 24 and 25 yesterday. Yep. I wrote a bunch at once, as in I wrote a week's worth of writing in one day because I make good life choices ahaha now I have a mild cold(I've been depriving myself of sleep for months now I've brought this upon myself)._

 _"Shoutout" to my "homies" **VelvetGoldie** , **theusualguest** , **MusicalsandMordreds** , and **Demigodathena** who make me happy(and indirectly caused my sudden diarrhea of typing. Sorry for the gross analogy). Yes I am cringey. I'm writing fanfiction for goshness sake how can I not be?_

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	22. Chapter 22

**Like A Child**

The wedding ceremony was already the next day.

It was morning, and the forest buzzed with tiny life forms that whizzed about. There was an occasional bird that looked like a common London sparrow, but most of the winged creatures that resided in the Never woods were ones that did not exist in other worlds.

Clara stared up at the colorful array of wildlife that fluttered and sang above her. She was dressed in simple garments given to her by the chieftess herself, and her feet were covered in old moccasins someone else used to wear. Her long hair had been washed by the river and braided into two, and a simple headband with a red feather adorned her head.

She glanced back. Her chaperones continued picking various fruits from the trees while whispering to each other in their mother tongue. They were three women all old enough to be her mother, and all of them did not do a stellar job of monitoring the ginger-haired girl.

After all, they did not think the ex-captive would run off.

The English girl was limp, weak, and always too busy staring at the pretty butterflies flying by and the flowers that grew from the mossy floor. She had danced, sang, and skipped about when they clothed her in their tribal wear, and she had made an effort to learn a few, simple words such as "please" and "hello." She was just an overgrown child, enchanted and fascinated at everything that crossed her eye and useless like one too. They were sure she knew this as well, and that her chances of surviving alone in the forest was scarce. And the girl genuinely wanted to become a member of their tribe, so she did not have a reason to run off.

Or... So they thought.

Despite giving the illusion that she was staring out at nature's creations, Clara was not doing so. Little by little when they weren't watching, she would inch further and further away. The change was always so subtle so that no one would notice, but the minuscule steps she took were enough to lead her closer and closer to the opening of the trees.

Clara shot once glance behind her. The women's back were turned to her.

And so she bolted away.

Keeping her eyes focused straight ahead, she frantically attempted to piece together a plan. The sound of her footsteps snapping fallen twigs and crunching on dead leaves was drowned out by the cacophony of the morning song of the hidden creatures, who all watched the outsider from their secret places.

All logic left as she madly sprinted on, whipping past branches and leaves that left angry bites on her skin and sharp sensations of stinging. The sole rational thought that raced across her mind was finding Smee and the others, even though she had no idea where she was nor where she was headed. Pumping her limbs faster and faster, Clara decided that thinking would come after she was safe and far, far away from the ruthless Tigress and the members of her tribe.

As her spontaneous dash for freedom continued, the runaway failed to notice the long looped rope hidden with leaves and walked right into it! At the very moment she stepped inside, it coiled tightly around her ankle and a mechanism was triggered and a net fell from above.

Before she even had time to scream the floor beneath her opened and she began falling.

Clara began screeching when she plunged into darkness while writhing about. But she didn't fall for long, for her rear smashed into a hard surface, and much to her surprise she started tumbling and rolling down and around. Was she going down a steep, underground hill?

She had no time to ponder, for her head, and the rest of her body, was slammed side to side on what felt to be wood, and after a few seconds her body was ejected forward onto the dirty ground.

Thick puffs of dust rose up upon impact, and Clara received a mouthful of pebbles and a plethora of small scratches. Groaning, she coughed while opening her eyes and slowly lifting her aching head that had been not-so-gently banged repeatedly during her descent. Frowning, she decided to glance back at the entrance she had tumbled in from. At the opening was the end of a large, slanted plank of wood that had been sanded and smoothed out.

As her vision focused into clarity, she could make out that she was inside a shelter of some sort. A home, for there were beds. Everything was a warm shade of brown, and the walls were rounded and resembled a large trunk... Was she in an underground treehouse?

A blurry outline moved, and Clara froze. Her heart stopped beating when she saw she was not alone.

There were at least twenty boys standing right in front of her.

Each one looked as much as a deer caught in a trap as she, and within the group, Clara spotted the five she had met a while ago. But no flicker of recognition flashed across their features, and the they just stared unblinkingly at her like the rest of the bunch. All of their skin was darkened from playing under the sun, and all of them were smeared with mud and dirt. Most were still in bed as it was still morning, and all of them wore home-made clothes made from patches of rags, leaves, and fur.

Just like Clara had last remembered them, there was a more feral quality about them. Several reached for their weapons, and all of them were tense and ready to pounce at her. The young lady gulped, and stood on her knees while raising her hands up in surrender.

And her brain forced itself to regress back into a child.

"Are you the legendary Lost Boys?" Her voice was faint and breathy as if she was in awe, but it was actually because she still hadn't caught her breath after her fall.

Several eyed each other, before the two oldest she had run into a while back walked up to her.

"Who are you?" The Asian one regarded her with a serious manner. And the taller, dark-skinned boy next to him just scowled without saying anything. Did they not remember her?

"I am Clara."

No reaction.

"Are you a grownup?" The tall boy eyed her up and down.

"We kill adults all the time."

She shuddered at the memory of him saying those words to her in their first meeting.

"I was forced to be one."

"So you are one." They grabbed the hands of their knives and forced herself to smile.

"Only on the outside." She giggled, and sat criss-cross apple sauce while slouching. "All I ever want to do is play and have fun!"

They regarded her for a quiet moment, before wide, toothy grins stretched across their faces. And the young woman barely suppressed a cry of relief.

"What kind of games?" A five-year-old popped up from behind her. Little by little, the other children were starting to inch closer to her.

"Sword fighting, scavenger hunts, tree climbing… All sorts of games!" There was now a small circle surrounding her.

"What else?"

"Tricking adults!" She painted on a toothy grin the same time the youths around her did, and she hid how her heart thrashed when they were no more but inches away from her. All of the boys stood, hovering over her from all sides and angles, scrutinizing her for any hint of a lie.

"It's fun getting revenge on grown-ups! They may have forced me to grow up, but I will never be one of them!" She threw her head back and laughed, and tried to seem as reclined as possible by stretching her legs out in front of her in the most unladylike manner. She also slouched and tried to imitate some of their bored expressions for a measure as well.

"They can never ever control me. Nuh uh." She shook her head, and at that final statement, every last boy around her bloomed into sweet smiles and giggles. And if she had not met them before, she would've been fooled into thinking she was in the presence of orphaned angels who just need a mother's love.

But they were not, and so she had to suffocate the twitch in her muscles to bolt away and force herself to remain still.

"But not all adults get to keep being like a child like me." She painted on a serious expression. "I need your help, please. You are heroes, are you not?"

Clara hid a smirk when she saw their faces light up. They stuck their noses in the air and puffed out their chests.

"Yes, we are."

"Oh good! Then please save my dearest friend."

"Of course. We heroes save women."

"Even though they're annoying and talk too much."

"And can never do anything right."

"Thank goodness!" She barely stopped herself from hissing the words through gritted teeth.

"What do you need us to save her from?"

She paused for a dramatic effect, before deepening her voice in a forlorn manner.

"Marriage."

The familiar yet unfamiliar word resonated in their minds, and their eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"Is that a kind of monster?" A chubby African boy.

"Didn't Peter get "married?" The freckled five-year-old.

"Oh right! "marriage" is what took him from us!" One with missing fingers.

"But what is it?" One with a scar running down his jaw.

They shot confused glances at each other, before turning back to Clara.

"It's when two people spend the rest of their lives together. Or in some cases, they're stuck with the other." She held her breath, shooting stern looks to each child. "And they can never leave."

Horror flashed through their beady eyes.

"Never?"

Clara lowered her voice to make it as menacing as possible.

"Never."

They gasped.

"And you boys all know that never, is an awfully long time."

Her solemn words rang in the air and resonated in their hearts. And in their moment of silence, Clara remembered two nights ago when she had confronted the captain.

 _"Are you implying that you want to spend the rest of your life with me?"_

The idea didn't sound terrible at all. She hardly knew about the captain's past, and it was unclear whether he himself remembered much of it. She hardly knew what he was really like, and she hardly ever got a glimpse of what lay underneath his violent and angry exterior. And when she did get a brief glimpse, she wanted to see more.

See more of the man hiding underneath the pirate.

"Marriage sounds terrible."

She was jerked out of her thoughts when the second eldest spoke up again.

"Yes, it is. Often there is love involved." She crinkled a nose and forced a grimace to parrot the children in front of her.

"Love?"

"Gross."

"Can you boys ever love?" Her heart tightened upon already knowing the answer.

"Never."

"Even the sound of it offends us."

"Well then we must save Tiger Lily from the biggest mistake of her life. Don't you boys agree?"

Their faces remained blank.

"But we don't care about her."

A mini spike of panic surged thorough Clara. Had they already lost interest so fast?!

"She's just some stupid boring grown up."

"Yeah."

"Peter said we didn't have to save women every time."

"Women are still adults."

Adult. The image of Ashkii flashed across her mind.

"Well I think her husband is in need of more saving." Clara while shaking her head. "Her fiancé is thirteen."

All of their mouth's dropped.

"What?!"

"She's forcing him to marry her?!"

"What a demon!"

"What a monster!"

Clara put up both hands and spoke calmly, hoping to placate the agitated bunch.

"Now now, if we go now we will fail. I have a plan, and you brave soldiers are capable of carrying it out, for it is difficult and it requires a lot of courage. Please, won't you be the savior for two people's lives?"

They all puffed out their chests and couldn't suppress the smiles that spilled over onto their features.

"Of course!" They all said in unison. Even the two leaders beamed like the sun. And Clara once again suppressed a cry of relief upon seeing their compliance.

"Alright, listen carefully. The wedding is to take place tomorrow morning. Before sunrise, I need you all to be ready for battle. After all, you want to be powerful winners, right?"

Many nods of affirmation.

"Good. You must launch a surprise attack."

"We are so good at those!" Several began jumping up and down whilst giggling. Clara smiled, and no one saw it was strained.

"Wonderful! But it is a different kind of surprise attack, with no killing."

"Aw! No fair!"

"What? No killing? Why?"

"That's so stupid!"

Almost immediately there as an overwhelming wave of whining and growling. Some glared at her and reached for their sharp pointy weapons. Cold sweat breaking out, Clara quickly began speaking again before they could think about impaling her.

"But you guys are so powerful and strong you don't need to kill them! Right?"

They all considered her words, and nodded with approval.

"Well true, but the mark of a true hero is killing."

"Actually, Peter said that the mark of a true hero is having fun while helping others." Clara carefully said the words in a gentler tone, and tried her best not to look challenging. A quiet air settled around them, and Clara continued talking in her soothing voice.

And no one wondered how in Neverland she even knew Peter.

"Pan was about thirteen, right?"

Nodding, they all scrutinized the strange young girl before them. Oddly, her green gaze conjured up the image of the exact boy they were talking about. But they said nothing, and clung to every word she uttered like children during story time.

"Well, Ashkii, Tiger Lily's betrothed, is also thirteen. He is still a kid! Don't you boys think he deserves to have fun? It wouldn't be fair for him to lose his freedom so soon, and you can teach him how to have fun."

Clara beamed when the boys did, before continuing her instruction.

"The most imperative thing about this plan is that you must be true heroes, and not kill anyone. You just have to completely ruin everything! You must destroy the party! Make it appear like the most disastrous storm had ripped right through it!"

She spotted many buckets of colorful paint at the far corner of the room, and grinned.

"I want you all to throw a food fight! Cover the bride in paint! I'll tell you a secret: adults are easily embarrassed, and being humiliated is worse than death for most adults."

Giggling broke out across the group, and some were unable to contain their glee and began to excitedly bounce up and down as they cheered.

"Yeah!"

"Worse than death!"

"That sounds fun!"

"Throwing food!"

"Tricking adults!"

"Humiliating them!"

Before they could erupt into a sea of hooting and crowing and cackling, Clara clapped loudly to regain their attention, and spoke in the perky voice she often heard her tutors use.

"Alright! Remember, you must be on time to save them. Remember what Peter told you, he told you all that true heroes are early or punctual!"

"Of course!"

"It is our duty as heroes."

"It's our code of honor."

"We needed new recruitments anyway."

Before they could begin discussing how much of a good addition Ashkii would be, Clara spoke up again in a playful tone.

"Alright. I also need you to do something dangerous for me! It's part of our mission."

They all leaned in.

"What?" Their voices shook with excitement, and they were no more but whispers. Clara smiled, before lowering her voice was well, as if she was telling them a precious secret.

"I need you to find the Jolly Roger crew, and tell them that their captain has been captured by the Indians."

The older two frowned and shot glances at one another.

"Why?"

"Because then the foolish pirates will come and try to and save him, but then they get captured too!"

The older boys were still suspicious, and so Clara crossed her arms while eyeing them up and down.

"Are you boys too scared? Well, I guess you are all wimpy chickens after all then." She yawned and pretended to be interested in her nails. And she suppressed a smirk when their faces flared red.

"We will do it!"

"Yeah! We're brave!"

She turned back and grinned at them.

"Good! You'll do it then?"

They nodded, and Clara continued.

"Won't it be terribly fun to watch them all die at the hands of the Indians? I mean, someone needs to die in order for all this to be fun, right? And the more deaths of pirates the merrier!" Clara forced a laugh and winked at them. And then they lit up once again, and giggled.

"That's so clever!"

"We are so clever!

"Oh the cleverness of us!"

"Yes, you boys are pure geniuses. You boys are so smart! They would be defeated so easily!" At this point, mimicking their jerky movements and elfish grins required no thought whatsoever, and Clara found planting ideas in their head was as easy as breathing.

The imps grinned.

"So tell me boys, what is the rescue plan? I must know that you remember."

"We must save the boy and Tiger Lily from marriage by ruining the party!" The younger ones practically shrieked the words in their fervor.

"With our paint guns and food fights!"

"Very good, now what is the dangerous game that's to add to the fun?" She stood.

"Tell the pirates their captain has been captured!"

"Wonderful! And when must you start the shenanigans?"

"Right before the codfish is lit on fire so that we can drown him later!" They turned to each other. "Oh we haven't had this much excitement or fun in years!"

Clara suppressed a smirk, and watched as they began chattering excitedly amongst themselves, discussing topics such as which armor to wear and what weapons to use. And while they were lost among their excited chatter, Clara put on a trained a smile and watched them. They talked of murdering and plundering so effortlessly, and their eyes even sparkled with joy as they described in detail how wondrous it was to stab someone.

But Clara caught a snippet of another side conversation between the two leaders, who almost resembled mini war captains discussing their battle strategy. But she was surprised to hear that it was about something else.

"Adults make terrible decisions without thinking." The Asian one.

"They're really weak, because they have something called "feelings." And the worst feelings they feel is love and loneliness." Darkie.

"I heard foolish adult women like to marry the first man they meet."

"How pathetic."

They too then began discussing the details of the violent aspects of the anticipated fight. But their earlier words resonated in Clara's mind, and found herself frowning and pondering over them more than necessary.

Had she desperately flung herself at the first man she met?

No. It was more than that.

She remembered how she cried over how Mr. Banning couldn't love her. Or rather, chose not to. And she remembered how dark resentment would possess her entire being, causing her to cry even more. At those times, she would pick up her mother's diary and reread her cursive writing of the stories of pirates and mermaids. The habit had begun when she was no more than five, and every time she grew sad it was that forbidden, secret journal she pulled out.

When her father had gone to work one day, she had secretly broken into the forbidden room and stolen the book from it. She had kept it hidden in her drawer had under her pillow for many years, and she read it almost every night. The stories of pixies and Indians had stirred the insatiable need for thrill inside her heart, and increase the longing she felt to experience flying as well.

But then there had always been that one, special character she resonated the most with. The ominous man who hated Peter Pan. He was always so driven to get what he wanted, and he didn't let anything stop him from doing so despite the many defeats he faced. He had persisted again and again to forcefully make the boy see him as an equal. To see him as something worth worrying over.

And Clara grew to adore and follow the example of his stubborn persistence. But instead of seeking Pan's life like the pirate captain, she had sought his affection. And she too suffered so many defeats, and she too had failed so many times to grab his attention or make him even glance her way for a second. But he just never saw her as something worth worrying about. And yet, she continued desperately flinging herself at him just like he had.

As she grew older, she found herself skipping the violent bits of her mother's story and going right to the portions where a certain blue-eyed man showed up. The more she read about him, the more she thought about him. She often wondered if he felt the same way she did, if he had suffered the same bouts of misery and loneliness.

And then one day he had just appeared before her like a dream.

"Are you going to stay with us?" A tan boy snapped Clara out of her thoughts. Blinking, she opened her mouth to answer. But before she was just about to agree, she frowned.

No. The Tigress trusted her, and at this point running away would not be necessary. She had only been gone for about five minutes now, meaning that the women who were supposed to be watching her probably thought she had wandered off to pee and got lost. Yes, she still had time to return without rousing suspicion.

Completely discarding her earlier morning plans of blindly running to nowhere, Clara cleared her throat and straightened her posture.

"I have to return now. It is important that I do, if we are to fantastically deceive those adults. They might be foolish, but they are not stupid. It is crucial for me to act as the spy." Upon hearing her reasoning, the children surprisingly nodded.

"You must lie to them."

"I'm sure you'll be fantastic at it."

"After all, not only are you an adult..."

"But you are a woman as well!"

Clara smiled through clenched teeth and let out a strained laugh.

"What clever boys you are! Now, how exactly do I return to the Indians?"

Wordlessly, the eldest stepped up and began to walk. Clara followed like a blind puppy, and eventually found herself outside once again. He pointed in a familiar direction, and told her to just go straight. And Clara bid him good day before following his instruction.

And as she tread through the forest, she swallowed her irritation and focused on how important it was to save the captain. The memory of the look in his eyes sent a new pang of guilt ripping through Clara, and she bowed her head in shame despite nobody being there to witness the action. But instead of acquiescing into a bout of self-pity, Clara held her head high and strengthened her resolve to return to and save him as soon as possible.

After all, she couldn't let harm come to the man she loved.

By the time she miraculously found her way back again, she found her three supervisors waiting for her with frowns etched on their faces.

"Oh thank goodness I've found you!" Clara made her voice weak and squeaky, and she stumbled over to them like a clumsy child. They stifled laughter upon seeing she was scratched and riddled with bruises.

"I had to relieve myself and then got terribly lost and I've finally found you again! Oh how and I tripped and fell into a ditch and I thought I was going to die!" She let out a choked laugh, before following after the women who didn't display any concern. And they began walking forward towards the village once again, with Clara rambling on and on despite not having much energy to do so.

And the women silently wishing the girl had remained "lost."


	23. Chapter 23

**Promises**

Clara bit on her lip and kept glancing outside.

She had been placed in a different tent now, and was no longer bound in tight ropes. But outside she still had a pair of guards keeping on the watch, but at least she had been given a blanket to sleep on. Though the hour was late and the sky was dark, Clara was anything but sleepy.

Silently, she paced back and forth while gnawing on her thumb, her eyes always darting from the teepees entrance every few seconds, in the direction where the captain was kept.

Had the Lost Boy's done what they were told? Had they kept their word? They weren't exactly reliable, for they did not genuinely care about honor or "good form." Whatever chivalry they displayed was no more than just a show, no more than a mere imitation and mimicking of the real thing.

What if the children could not find the pirates after all, for they had perished?

Sighing, Clara began to make extremely convincing farting sounds with her mouth, before emitting low groans and moans of pain. Crouching over and clutching her abdomen, she stumbled out her abode whilst painting a look of sickness and exhaustion onto her features. She met eye-contact with one of the guards, whose cheeks turned slightly red as they always did each time she had exited.

"I need to go again." She said the words in a feeble voice. And through closed lips, she was able to imitate a gurgling sound, and make it seem to emit from her stomach. "Please."

They turned away and nodded while releasing fake coughs. Like everyone else, they believed she had fallen ill after something at dinner did not agree with her, and each time she went to the forest she was taking care of... "Business."

Suppressing a giggle, Clara stumbled away still hunched over, towards the forest where she had gone every now and then to do her... "Business."

Clara had never known of her unique talent of voice alterations and throwing until she had encountered Raoul. Although she had not used her strange ability since the incident, she found that creating sounds and changing her voice to another's came as naturally to her as breathing! At first, she had grown fearful, suspecting that the odd quirk was a work of dark magic. After all, Neverland was full of mysterious things.

But then she remembered that even back in London, she had heard of performers called "Ventriloquists," who also possessed the same ability Clara had. She did not know where exactly she had inherited the trait from, but it did not matter.

All that mattered now was that she use it to her advantage.

As soon as she was out of sight from the village and her captor's prying eyes, she scanned the dark forest and its murky shapes. Like she had done many times before in the past several hours, she gently began to call out for any of the pirates. But mostly, she called out for the two men she was the closest with.

"Hello? Mr. Smee?" She threw her voice so it reached further into the forest, but kept it low enough for no natives to overhear. After straining her ears for a few moments, she called out again but in a different direction. And when no one answered her once again, she moved to a different location and tried again.

The process went on for a few minutes, and with each passing second the ominous grip of panic wrapped its grip tighter and tighter around Clara's mind.

But right before she could turn to leave, something rustled in the bushes. Freezing, Clara remained frozen and prepared to bolt just in case it was a wild animal. And soon, she found a pudgy face with spectacles peeking out.

"Lass?" The old boatswain's voice was a faint whisper. Another head joined her which was that of Bruce. Letting out a cry of joy, Clara rushed over to them both.

"Oh Mr. Smee! My lovely Bruce! You are alive and well!" Allowing tears of relief to freely flow down her cheeks, Clara pounced onto them both while wrapping her arms around their necks, not caring that the bushes were poking into her flesh through her thin dress. And the two men did not fall backwards, and simply just returned her display of affection whilst wearing small smiles.

"There there lass, you must've been awful frightened."

"Oh yes. Terribly." Sniffing, she pulled back and quickly threaded together the remaining string of composure she had left. "Please tell me everything that's happened."

"Some Lost Boy came and told us the Captn' had been captured."

She nodded, relief washing over how they had kept their word.

"We've been searching for you two for days." Bruce spoke up in a hushed voice, and fresh tears glossed over the young lady's eyes. But she managed to keep her emotions in control.

"How are the men? Did they survive the storm?"

"Of course. But our ship is badly damaged and is still undergoing repairs. And many are injured or exhausted... Mermaids aren't easy to fight off."

Shuddering, Clara only nodded before quickly recounting the important details of her experience. She told them of her and the captain's current situation and the deal she had struck with the Lost Boys. While she did, the two pirates blinked at her with awe swimming in their wide eyes, but they didn't interrupt until she was all done.

"But will the children really do that?" Bruce frowned. Clara nodded.

"They kept this promise of reaching out to you, so I'm sure they will do the same for tomorrow."

"Should we try and break the captain out now?" Bruce eyed Smee.

"Is it just the two of you?"

The boatswain nodded. Clara frowned, and the two seamen could practically hear the gears turning in her head.

"It's too risky to attack right now. There's three men guarding Hook's tent and we'll get caught... Right now the Indians trust me, and I intend on keeping it like that for as long as I can. I think...I think you should come tomorrow." She glanced down, and spotted the pistol hanging at Bruce's belt. Her eyes widened.

"Perhaps you can plant dynamite and bombs everywhere as a distraction! Set it off if the Lost Boys fail to come or at the same time they arrive." She met their gazes.

"That's a good idea." Bruce.

"Problem is, we're all out of gunpowder." Smee sighed sadly while shaking his head. She stared out into nothing, and Clara followed his gaze. But there was nothing to see but pitch black beyond the forest.

Black, blackness... Yes! Of course! The black tents in the village! They were filled with weapons and many guns!

"But wait! There is gunpowder." She pointed behind her towards the left. "In that direction, there are teepees with black embroidery designs on them. If you can somehow sneak into them without getting caught, I'm sure you can find plenty in there. And if it's possible, maybe you can take all the weapons out and hide them! Most of the people are sleeping, for they are exhausted from all the wedding preparations."

"I think we can go back and grab a couple men to help us." Mr. Smee's eyes twinkled as he listened to her suggestion.

"Bruce is very good at planting bombs and making big booms!" The big man grinned like a proud child. And Clara returned his smile.

"Marvelous. But please be careful."

"But what about tomorrow? What should we do after the explosions go off?" Smee.

"We must take down the executioner first and save the captain of course. I think it's best if only a small amount of men to come, so that we can slip away unnoticed. Where is the Jolly Roger at currently?"

"It's washed up at the very end of the shore, near The Black Castle. It's a good thing it's hidden someplace rather secluded, we don't want them to find us."

"Then perhaps leaving a rowboat at the... Black Castle was it? Is wise." Said Clara.

"I'll take care of it, and I'll come and save you and the captain." The sweet man puffed out his chest. "This big dummy will save you both!"

Clara giggled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. She failed to notice his cheeks turning pink, and turned to the old boatswain.

"Alright. So, I suppose the plan is to create a distraction and escape without anyone seeing. I'm not good at escape plans, so I'm sure you will know what to do Mr. Smee."

"Aye lass. Don't' worry about it. But tis a good idea to attack the same time the evil imps do. Hopefully they follow through, because if they don't it would be harder for us."

Clara nodded.

"They will. I believe them."

"You should return now, they might grow suspicious. We'll be back soon with more men to set up the explosions."

She nodded.

"Good luck Mr. Smee. Bruce." She left, leaving the two men staring at her retreating form. And once she was gone, both glanced at the other with the exact thought in mind.

The thought that she was just as ruthless and strategic as the very blue-eyed man they planned on rescuing.

* * *

 _My Dear, Lovely Test-Hamsters- I mean Readers ahem..._

 _I apologize for the week of waiting, but I hope the longer length of the chapters will pardon my rather erratic updates. Whew...Okay. So I just need to fill in the missing parts for 24 and 25, and I will be posting them separately since both are on the longer side than usual. I sure hope that there won't be any plot holes by the time I'm done with this story ahaha *cries*_

 _To the ones who have gone back to school again, I'm terribly sorry lol. But I feel that September has passed rather quickly no? I have been semi-busy with part-time working and oh god the dreaded driver's ed. But, I most definitely will finish this story before November, and if I am productive before October(but that is best case scenario). And then after I finish this story, I don't know if I should write another fanfiction or not. But for now, I will concentrate on this one!_

 _Thank you all for being so kind, courteous, understanding, patient, and for just sticking with me all the way till now. As usual, I offer my special affections for **MusicalsandMordreds** , **theusualguest,** **VelvetGoldie** , and **Demigodathena** for your continued feedback. _

_Feel free to berate me when I slack off, and I hope to update sooner._

 _Love,_

 _StrangelySilentSoul_

 _-P.S that was creepy I apologize._


	24. Chapter 24

**The Wedding**

Clara was whistling a "merry" tune as she assisted the village women in finishing up the last details of the decorations.

The ceremony was to begin in thirty minutes, and the sun was beginning to peek out from the looming trees of the Neverwoods. Everyone bustled about, sprinting from place to place in order to fulfill their personal tasks. Guests had begun to arrive and take their seats at the table or on the ground. Children played amongst themselves. A hum of busy activity filled the otherwise quiet air, and on the outside, everyone was in a fairy pleasant mood.

But what loomed over all else was the impending execution of a certain pirate, as well as dark storm clouds in the distant horizon.

Clara tried to keep her thoughts of failure far, far away from her already exploding mind. Her stomach was tense and her mouth dry, and she worried everyone could hear the thrashing of her heart and shallow breaths. Earlier, she had sneaked to the forest to "relieve" herself and met Mr. Smee and Bruce. They had assured her that they had completed the task of planting the explosives in various hiding spots. Bruce had briefly explained how he had managed to link them all, and triggering one would result in the entire circuit to erupt if he had done it right.

And Clara desperately hoped that he had.

There was not yet any sign of the Lost Boys, which was either good in that they were waiting for the right moment according to the plan, or bad in that they had forgotten. It was too soon to tell whether or not they had broken their promise to invade the "happy" union of the native princess, and so Clara decided to focus on the rescue and prepare to create a distraction if necessary.

She scanned her surroundings once more, and thankfully no one paid mind to her. In fact, since the morning no one had even bothered looking for her.

The three women who had been in charge of her were doing the very opposite of their jobs: instead of keeping an eye on her they tried keeping themselves as far, far away from the girl as possible. After all, it was a wedding day. Weddings were supposed to be happy events, and they weren't going to allow an annoying English girl spoil it for them with her incessant chatter.

And so, that gave Clara the opportunity to wander about the village which she now knew like the back of her hand.

The black tents no longer had any gunpowder in them. No one had noticed or gone inside yet, but if they were to do so they would become angry. And when they became angry they would begin searching, and if they begin searching, then Bruce's set up would be discovered, and being discovered meant failure.

She cast her eyes up and towards the center of the village: where the stake stood upright and towered over all the huts. It was a very long and menacing plank of wood, and it rested on top of an elevated platform which had various dead twigs, leaves and other flammable material on top. Rocks surrounded the ground around it, and the entire ensemble resembled an over-sized campfire for cooking meat.

Human meat.

A shudder crawled down Clara's body and goosebumps popped up on her flesh. No, Clara could not risk that. She could not rely on others and trust their timing to be right. A mere second would mean life or death for her dear captain. In a brief moment, the executioner would throw the burning torch and all would be lost.

At that very moment, she spotted a man approaching her direction. Quickly bowing down her head and trying to appear as if she was occupied in smoothing down the tablecloth, the native paid little mind to Clara and continued on his way walking past her and stopping at the rum table.

His dark eyes darted about, making sure no one had spotted him. And he allowed satisfactory smile to stretch across his face, before helping himself to a cup. And he was completely oblivious that he was being watched.

He was the executioner! The very man who would light the captain aflame! He was a short, stout man about the same height as Clara, and looped around his arm was the long, black cloak which would cover every part of his body in the time of the dreaded event.

Including the face.

The man then set down his cup while releasing a satisfied sigh, before strolling away while humming. Unbeknownst to him, a pair of poison ivy eyes glittering with dark intent trailed after him, never taking her eyes off of him until he disappeared inside the hut.

And the silent stalker also slipped in, unnoticed.

On the other side of the village, the soon-to-be barbequed man wallowed in his own self pity inside his sad little tent. Two warriors stood guard outside of his tent as they had been for all three days, knowing very well what was soon to come.

Although neither had spoken to one another while on duty, both knew the other felt the same way towards their prisoner. Like everyone else in the village, they had heard about how much of a cold and ruthless killer the pirate captain had been. As young children, they had listened to campfire stories of how he had slit open throats and stomachs while the men were still breathing, and how his lust for blood had erased the rest of his humanity. He had been the shadow lurking in their nightmares, and the greatest villain they had dreamed of fighting one day.

And so they had been disappointed to find that he did not have a face of a monster or a pair of demon eyes. He was rather ordinary-looking, and they were even a little taller than he was. They had expected a crazed madman ready to cut them open at any time, but when they first saw him he didn't even have his legendary talon attached to his arm. The stump he called a hand was rather a pitiful sight, and despite being able to freely gape at it they had averted their eyes from his disfigurement after one small glimpse.

They both especially found it odd how he had not put up a single fight in the entirety of his imprisonment, and had been rather submissive and calm throughout his stay. Both also found it odd how instead of feeling repulsion and fear towards the man, they felt pity.

But of course, they said nothing and followed their leader's orders.

Inside the abode, Hook's stomach had stopped growling long ago, and each pang of hunger was now a silent stab of agony. The world swayed about under him, and despite struggling to keep his eyes open he found himself slipping in and out of consciousness. The pounding migraine which ailed his head made thinking quite close to impossible, but it was still clear to him that it would soon be time.

Unlike he had expected, he did not feel wild fear nor was there any sudden spikes of panic-induced hysteria at the thought of death. Unlike whenever the crocodile had appeared, there was a chilling sense of calmness that gripped him tightly. There was no dread lingering at the edges of his mind, nor was there the overwhelming urge to fight. It was as if every part of him had given up, and so there wasn't any need to fight for anything anymore.

And he knew all too well why that was.

Before he could dwell over the matter for too long, there was the sound of soft footsteps, and the rise and fall of a female's voice. Jolting awake, he shot his head up, expecting to see a pair of green eyes staring down at him. Instead, he found the dark, beady eyes of Tiger Lily glittering like black seawater.

And he was overcome with the usual sinking sensation of disappointment following after an irrational spike of hope.

The chieftess wore a long, virginal-white dress adorned with fringes and beads. Her silky hair was loose and long, cascading down to her waist like an indigo-black waterfall. Replacing her usual headdress of the chief was a simple, beaded headband with white features sticking out from it. An intricate yet simple beaded choker adorned her slim neck. She looked as pretty and innocent as a bride should, and there was almost an air of daintiness about her. It was as if she was any other sweet, young maiden on her wedding day.

But of course, she was not any other sweet, young maiden.

Before he could say anything, the two men who had been guarding him yanked him to his feet, and although he stumbled about he maintained balance. An intense dizziness shot through this head, and Hook couldn't not stop his neck from rolling about the slightest.

"At last. I've waited for this moment my entire life. I've dreamt of it every night."

Despite feeling fatigued, the captain was able to sneer and respond.

"I'm flattered, but how will your husband feel about his wife dreaming of another man?" Hook's voice sounded as hoarse and dry as it felt. But the tone remained as flat and inexpressive as his face.

Tiger Lily's face shriveled into a scowl.

"You tried to kill me with water, and so I will kill you with fire." Her voice grew low and her posture tense. The captain didn't even bat an eyelash as he stared down at the younger female with emptiness lining his eyes.

"I hope the delightful aroma of my rotting, burning flesh will plague the village for days. Think of it as my wedding gift to you, a perfume of sorts. Congratulations, by the way. I am sure your boy-slave will give you everything that you ever desired, including his strong teeth when yours start falling out many years from now."

"I'm sure he will." She spat the words. "And in the end, you died alone and unloved."

Tiger Lily didn't miss the tiniest twitch that barely flickered across his features, and snickered. As Hook remained silent and stoic-faced, the princess turned to her guards and gave orders in their language, before turning to leave the tent.

"The time has finally come."

Shortly after she left, there was a sound of drums that thundered from the outside. Hook was still quite disoriented, and tried his best to stay standing as his two escorts began hauling him out of his dwellings.

He found that outside, the entire tribe had gathered and were now all sitting in their individual place. All eyes were fixed on him as he marched down the tables where they were seated on each side, down the path leading to the stake.

Hook somehow found balance and walked upright on two feet. He felt as haggard and miserable as he probably looked, and he was sure he no longer looked like the proud and fearless leader of the Jolly Roger pirates. He could feel every stare directed at his missing hand, but was able to keep a blank face without much effort.

The forlorn sense of resignation thickened as he neared the looming platform, and he found himself unable to even glance at the onlookers. He feared that if he did, he would see her. And if he were to see her, he was sure he would completely lose all control.

Once reaching his destination, Hook's muddled mind grew clear as he mustered up the last bits of his pride. He made a solemn vow to himself that he would speed up the process of his death by biting off his own tongue. Yes, why wait for death to come? The anticipation would only fuel more fear of the thing itself.

After all, it was always the pain before death which had frightened him. It had always been the sharp teeth and jaws of that blasted crocodile that was menacing, not the peaceful state of nothing which would follow after red flashes of searing pain.

And so, he ascended the steps of the platform.

"Good morning." Hook grumbled as he walked past the man that was to set him aflame, who was nothing but a black silhouette. "I prefer hanging, but oh well. This isn't England."

His two guards began tying him against the pole. And Hook glanced up, fixing his piercing gaze onto his executioner, and then frowned.

There was something quite odd about him. For one, he was much shorter than Hook had expected, and much slimmer. Underneath the full-body costume, he could tell that the wearer was of a petite frame. Noticing his scrutiny, the "executioner" cleared his throat before speaking up.

"Of course. It's only good form for me to fulfill it." A deep voice came from the hood. The shadow paused, watching as Hook was secured against the stake, and watching as the warrior men walked off.

Leaving just the two of them.

"But I have a feeling death will come another day. After all, you have promises that you still haven't kept to a certain young lady." The cloaked figure murmured the words. Hook frowned.

"Do I know you?"

The faceless individual paused for a moment, before grabbing the torch one warrior offered to him from below.

"Of course not. What a silly question for you to ask."

Hook's eyes lit up, and the only person to notice was the "executioner." But before he could ask anymore, the dark shape turned around and faced the crowd. And although everyone missed it, Hook did not fail to notice how the "man" trembled the slightest, nor did he miss the small patch of pale skin peeking out from the cloak.

Or the single strand of orange hair that had wandered out from the hood.

But before he could say anything more to her, the sound of the drums ceased, and everyone stood the same time the chieftess did. Her inky eyes landed on her long-time enemy far across from her, and a smirk spilled across her red lips. She raised a glass in her hand as a toast, and everyone mirrored her actions, including her child husband next to her.

"As you all know, today is a day of great celebration. Not only am I wedding to a very great and noble warrior, but today is also the day in which our greatest enemy shall be no more." Her words echoed across the village, and she continued speaking once she saw everyone's undivided attention was directed at her.

She continued on her speech of how grateful she was for everyone to come, but Hook couldn't focus on what the native leader was saying at all. He was quite distracted by how fidgety the executioner was next to him, nor how his attention was always directed towards the forest area. And following his gaze, Hook found glimpses of small silhouettes darting about.

Eyes widening, he struggled to keep a blank face as he caught sight of more tiny shadows, and the occasional flashes of skin. And he swore the brief images of the heads of little boys was not his imagination. But the captain had no time to question whether the imps were really there or not, for the chieftess soon finished her little speech and redirected her attention back towards the executioner once again.

"Set him aflame."

There was an agonizing long spell of nothing but silence. The executioner stiffened, and was at a complete loss of words. When the pause prolonged, a few puzzled whispers broke out within the crowd.

"Is something the matter?" The chieftess frowned, eyeing the "man" up and down from her place at the tables.

The executioner cleared his throat, before speaking up in a voice closer to a squeak. There was some noticeable rustling from the woods, but Hook saw that none of the hidden intruders of the parties moved out from their hiding places.

"Uh… Um. Yes. Very wrong." A deep voice came out from under the costume… But it had an obvious British accent. The shadow could not stop fidgeting and squirming, and his fingers twitched around the torch he held.

"What is it?" Irritation lined the bride's features.

Soft giggles echoed from the distance, and Hook knew they were real for several guests turned their heads around in the direction it came from.

Tiger Lily frowned, and also turned her attention towards the woods.

But as soon as she did, a loud, wet slap ripped through the air. And the splat was followed by thick, suffocating silence, which gave everyone a minute to process what happened.

The Tigress stood ever so still. On her face was bright green paint. The viscous liquid oozed down her cheeks and dribbled off of her chin, some of the droplets beginning to leave eternal stains on her wedding dress. Ever so slowly, she reached up and wiped some of the slimy pigment from her eyes, and glanced down to study the sticky substance now between her fingers. Her jaw tightened and her other hand clenched into a fist, but she kept her posture straight and held her head high.

It was quite evident she was desperately hanging onto the very last thread of dignity she had left.

And Hook and the figure next to him both turned to look at each other, and both suppressed their strong urges to giggle and cackle like naughty school boys. But some of the native children couldn't hold in their amusement and spilled a couple of chuckles whilst wearing silly grins.

Before their mothers could even attempt to hush them, another slap of a paintball echoed across the air! And another, and another, and another, until there was a meteor of paintballs and a heavy down pour of nuts and pinecones!

War cries rose from the forest, and the tiny boys which the shrill sound originated from emerged. The guests all shot up from their seats and scattered about like tiny ants. People ducked under tables or covered their heads to avoid by being pelted. Shouts of surprise turned into screams when a deafening roar of exploding dynamite thundered in the air from all directions.

As pandemonium began its reign, all Hook could do was gape open-mouthed. He was too distracted by the chaos to notice Clara had rushed to his side until she had cut the ropes that bound him. And as soon as he had been freed, she pulled off her black attire before grabbing onto his arm. She was panting and a thin layer of sweat glossed over her flushed face.

"Miss. Clara. I think you have a lot of explaining to to. How on-"

"Questions later. Now we run." She tugged at him. Another eruption. And then out of nowhere, Bruce appeared by their sides.

Hook opened his mouth to speak up again, but before he could even utter a syllable the young lady grabbed his maimed arm with both hands and pulled with a little more force.

"Run! Just run!"

With that, she yanked at him as she began sprinting. And Hook was too dazed and busy trying to avoid various flying objects to fight. And so, he allowed himself to be dragged along by the woman with Bruce following behind.

* * *

 _Dearest Reader,_

 _I apologize for the wait, but I assure you that my writing schedule shall be better for reals starting from now on._

 _I passed the driver's license test! Aaaand then I got sick afterwards because I had driven all day on the day of the examination, and the mild cold lasted a week..And then I got another cold. Sigh. But I am feeling much better now and have the energy to begin writing the rest of the story(and sadly there isn't much left!) I hope that the end of the story will bring a satisfying sense of closure, but at the same time I hope it will be memorable enough for you all._

 _I appreciate all of your support more than you will ever know, and I thank the special souls who always encourage me by dropping small reviews: **theusualguest,** **MusicalsandMordreds** , **VelvetGoldie** , **Demigodathena** , and a new reviewer by the name **IvyValentine1.**_

 _Hope to update real soon with the hardest chapter I have ever written eveerrrr(the next one). Until then, farewell and have a lovely day._

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	25. Chapter 25

**The Black Castle**

After running for what seemed to be an eternity, Clara, Hook, and Bruce all stopped. They were somewhere near the ocean, the captain wasn't sure where since his vision was blurred, and all that could be heard was the sound of their loud gasps intermingling with the waves.

While trying to catch his breath, the captain glanced Clara, who had her hands resting on her knees. Although she was terribly disheveled, there was no denying that she was an experiencing an adrenaline rush and relishing in the thrill of the escape. Her eyes burned with such alertness and passion, and the slightest of smiles ghosted the corners of her lips. Her hair tumbled about, tangled and wild and free. There was almost a glow coming from her, as if the sun itself was trapped inside of her.

Hook knew that she was already addicted to danger, just as he had been long ago.

"What happened?" Everything in his mind was so muddled and unclear. Hadn't he been tied to a stake just a little while ago?... And then they had escaped.

"We saved you! That's what!" Clara beamed at him, while standing up straight. "We fooled them so good! Aren't you proud of us?"

"How did you manage to get the Lost Boys into this?"

She beamed.

"Let's just say I used my womanly charms and manipulations skills. Which of course I picked up from watching a certain pirate."

She puffed up her chest and placed both her hands on her hips as a ridiculous grin lit up her entire being. And seeing that familiar smile again made the captain realize just how much he had missed seeing it, and it sent surge of warm feelings he had not felt for a long time.

And if Bruce had not spoken up again he would've grabbed a hold of her and kissed her right then and there.

"Did we lose them?" His voice was raspy and close to a breathy whisper. Clara glimpsed back over her shoulder, and the big man mimicked her actions.

"I think so."

The sounds of battling Indians and Lost Boys could no longer be heard from the now far away forest.

"Let's get to the boat now." As Clara and Bruce began talking, Hook frowned, and scanned his new environment.

They stood at the mouth of a looming, medieval stone castle. The ancient structure more like a water cave rather than a piece of architecture, for the inky waves had worn it down little by little with each passing century and at times had completely engulfed it.

He froze.

"Where are we?" He asked despite knowing. His vocal chords still ached.

"The Black Castle."

Air left his lungs and a heavy burden of dread settled in his chest. His fuzzy mind was gripped with a sudden surge of clarity, and his senses sharpened.

Clara then turned to Bruce. "Where did you put it?"

This was where the beast had swam to after swallowing him whole. He had spent three days here, freezing and starving and on the brink of insanity. Nightmares he thought he had forgotten came flooding back into his mind like the tides that continued rushing in.

"Smee said he left it on the other side. But you can only go there by going in."

He could feel it. He could feel the burning sensation in his throat as he suffocated. He could feel the walls of the beast's belly closing in on him. He could feel the slimy skin constricting more and more around him, and death creeping closer and closer.

"Well alright. You can lead the way then."

He could hear it. The ticking and tocking and growling of that wretched beast.

"Captain, we should go inside now."

He remembered how pitch black it was inside the creature, and so cold and wet. But it was still dark and freezing outside of the beast, inside of the crumbling cave they stood in the mouth of.

"No." What on earth was wrong with him?! He hadn't even batted an eyelash when marching to and being tied to a stake.

"No?" Clara frowned.

"I am not going in there." His heart thrashed, and his eyes darted around searching for the monster to jump out at any moment. He clenched and unclenched his fist, and Clara noticed.

"No. You can go, I'll stay here."

The strain in his voice made Clara step forward.

"Why?"

He didn't seem to hear her words. Clara did not fail to see how ghastly pale he had grown, nor how he twitched ever so violently. Every part of him was so tense, ready to pounce at the first thing that came for him.

"Captain?" She reached out and barely touched his shoulder. Hook flinched before springing away as if he had been burned. And there was such a wild expression of sheer terror, he was like a cornered animal staring right into the eyes of death.

"Why are you standing around like an idiot? Go already!"

She flinched, and quickly lowered her hand while recoiling. She wasn't terribly offended, mostly just confused.

"I'm sorry...No need to get angry now. I'll...I'll go in then." She turned to Bruce, but continued studying the captain from her peripheral vision. "Could you stay with him?"

Bruce nodded, and with that Clara slipped away. And as soon as the girl was gone, the big man whipped his head towards the captain and shot him a nasty glare.

"You ought to treat her kinder."

Hook frowned, not liking the evil eye he was receiving nor the tone being directed at him.

"I do not recall asking for your opinion."

The big man eyed his superior for a quiet moment, before speaking.

"That was an order, sir."

Before Hook could respond, Bruce's eyes suddenly widened as an arrow came flying straight towards them. Acting quickly, he shoved his superior away and ducked under as well. Both crashed onto the rocky ground below uninjured.

"Bruce! What in the devil..." Hook's words faded away, and every part of him tensed when he saw what the huge man was looking at.

In the distance, Tiger Lily stood.

"Hook!" Her call drowned out the sound of the water, and it was joined by a faint rumble of thunder from the distance. She began marching towards them, a sinister smile stretching across her features.

Her once elegant dress was ripped and tattered, and splattered with paint. Her hair was a mess and various foods and mysterious liquids dripped from her form. Her eyes no longer shined bright with victorious pride, no. It was ablaze with insatiable rage, and her need for violence was made all-to-clear when she lashed at them both with a hatchet.

Which was dripping with someone else's blood.

They barely dodged in time. Hook reached for his belt out of habit, only to find no weapon to grab.

"You left so soon! Before the real fun even began!" She laughed, and it sounded very wrong in their ears. "After you ran away, there was a game to see who could slay the most little boys! Of course I was the winner. I always win!" She threw down her empty quiver and her useless bow aside.

She swung her tomahawk again without warning, aiming straight for Hook's face. Bruce barely deflected the flying ax with his sword, and the captain had been able to jump back in time.

And almost fell into the water.

Bruce tossed the captain a spare sword. The Tigress threw herself forward with a shrill cry. As she tried reaching the pirate captain, the mountain man continued playing the role of a protective shield.

Meanwhile, Clara found that the interior of the rotting building was even more menacing than the exterior.

Clara was looking into a dining room of sorts, only now it had been commandeered by the sea. Staircases that abruptly stopped or continued on indefinitely spiraled all around, and they were all made of ancient stones that crumbled away more and more with each passing century. Shuddering, she eyed the weathered boulder which still had skeletons chained in to them, with their hands raised high above their skulls. There was water all around the center, and it casted an eerie glow that drowned everything in green and blue.

Ghostly chandeliers swayed up above. Abstract shadows danced in unexplored corners. Haunting whispers echoed and bounced around with the sound of murmuring waves.

Despite the rapid palpitations of her heart and the nervous sweat that layered her skin, Clara mustered up her courage and continued treading on in darkness. She had to lean against the slimy wall to inch her way under the drop gate and towards the nearest staircase. She grimaced upon feeling the sticky substance smear across her back, but she was too busy trying to keep her feet within the edge of which the "ground" ended. But eventually, the small piece of footing stretched to a full bridge, and Clara was able to walk straight.

But she did her best not to look down. And she did her best to avoid any eye contact with some of the human remains that still had a little flesh left on them.

There were several open arches and holes within the walls, and she spotted a balcony up ahead. And on the balcony, there was something covered by a large cloth.

Rushing out, she found herself in front of miles and miles of the angry ocean, and next to the edge was the large object. Clara walked over lifted the large sheet which had once been a sail, and doing so revealed the promised rowboat which had been hiding underneath.

An echo of a gunshot came from inside. Jerking, she whipped around. Straining her ears, Clara was able to pick up the sounds of angry shouts and clashing metal. Was there a struggle?

Another ghost of a firearm going off. Had they been discovered?!

A spike of panic. Before she could return inside to investigate, she spotted the head of Tiger Lily's fiancé pop out. Barely suppressing a gasp, Clara managed to duck behind a rock and crouch into the shadows. She could hear his soft feet as they padded against the jagged ground.

"Who's there?"

It took every ounce of self-control not to squeak. Ashkii's voice was slightly accented, but it was still rather high-pitched as a boy's should be.

She peeked out, but it was at the wrong moment. The same time she had popped out from the boulder, the boy's gaze fell onto it. And his eyes immediately lit up, and he thrust his sword out in front of him with both hands.

"You! Show yourself!" His gruff voice was strained with fear. He was badly bruised and cut in various places.

Clara stood and stepped out.

"Stay still! If you move any closer I'll kill you."He was glaring at her, but his hands trembled. Clara raised both of hers up in surrender, and did her best to relax every part of her.

"Boy. Don't be scared of me… I will not hurt you. All I ask is for you to do the same."

"Liar." He narrowed his eyes further and bared his teeth.

"I do not have a reason to harm you. You have not wronged me. Have I wronged you in some way?" Clara remained still, keeping her voice soothing and her expression calm.

The young man was taken aback by the gentle tone that was being directed towards him. It was quite unlike the stern orders he received, nor the ominous threats.

"Ashkii, that's your name, right?"

He blinked, before nodding. He didn't notice how his grip on his weapon loosened.

"I'm Clara." She held out her hand, and the boy eyed it as if it was poison.

"What do you want from me?" He aimed his blade at her heart. And he couldn't shake off the sense that the young woman's kindred eyes reminded him of another. The other girl he had not forgotten.

The one Tiger Lily had taken.

And Clara's sharp eyes did not miss how agitated the teen was, nor his inner conflict between trusting her or attacking her.

"I want the same thing you want. To escape in one piece. To get away from the cheiftess." Clara knew her words struck a chord with the boy, for he made eye-contact with her and didn't break it. "She scares me."

"Yes... She scares me too." Ashkii sounded so much like a six-year-old child.

"Does she hurt you ever?"

He averted his gaze.

"Only when I disobey or displease her. She..." He bit his lip.

"Go on, it's okay to tell me." Clara's reassuring tone sent a wave of relief across the young man.

"She's very displeased with me right now... I … I had refused to partake in killing any Lost Boys earlier. I... I did not think it was honorable to do so."

A shudder crawled down Clara's spine.

"Are they? Are they..."

He cast his gaze to his feet.

"They're all dead."

Clara held back her gasp and blinked back the sting in her eyes, and forced herself to keep her composure.

"Look at me."

He obeyed.

"I'll make you a deal. I will lie to Tiger Lily and say that you died. All you have to do, is take that boat and row away to wherever you want. If you want to, you can even join the pirates." She pointed at the modest sea vessel, and the boy followed her gaze.

His eyes sparkled the slightest, and he met her gaze again.

"But... Betray my tribe?" He bowed his head again. He and Clara both failed to notice his sword now was hanging loosely by his side, and that his grip on it was slipping more and more by the minute.

"Do you have family?"

"No."

"Friends?"

"Not anymore."

Clara's heart ached, and she couldn't control the compelling urge to touch his shoulder. Upon feeling the warm contact, Ashkii spoke again with calmness lining his features.

"Will the pirates kill me?"

"They are not evil monsters. They are criminals yes, but they are just men. They may not trust you at first... Seek out Mr. Smee. He is a stout, round old grandpa with glasses. Tell him I sent you and that you wish to become one of them."

"Why?"

She glanced at him.

"Why what?"

"Why are you helping me? Why... Why are you not trying to kill me?"

She offered a small smile.

"Well then why aren't you trying to kill me?" A short chuckle. "You are still a growing boy, Ashkii. I don't think it's fair for you to grow up so soon."

And Clara kept the thought that she had now grown up in her time on the island without realizing to herself.

"What will you tell Tiger Lily?" The edge returned in his demeanor. And Clara placed her hand on his arm again, and the warmth from her touch eased the boy's senses.

"Don't worry. I promise she won't come looking for you."

"Thank you."

Another gunshot came from inside.

"You have to go."

As the two began to move, meanwhile on the inside of the cave the Tigress and Bruce continued their dangerous dance of flying blades, with Hook trying his best to assist.

"Fight me like a man Hook! Don't be a coward." Tiger Lily slid under Bruce's legs so that she was before the captain."Don't you remember this place? It holds so much fond memories for us doesn't it?!" She growled while swinging her hatchet.

Hook deflected her attack, and barely avoided having his other hand cut off. He was profusely sweating, which was terrible for someone so dehydrated. His body swayed from side to side as if he was drunk, and with each passing second his mind blurred away more and more.

The Tigress missed slitting his jugular vein. She sprang forward, and he successfully avoided being impaled into the stone wall.

Barely.

He jumped upon seeing the slightest of movements. But even that sense of panic was welcomed, for it was proof that he was still alive and not yet slaughtered.

Bruce approached from behind, both arms raised as he tried slicing the crazed woman into two. But she whirled away and left a cut on his exposed side in the process. A grunt from the man, before he erratically swung around his sword.

Tiger Lily dodged time and time again, and when the big man's movements began to lag she sprang forward. As she roared, she kicked the pirate's only weapon out from his hand, and once he was defenseless she hacked into his torso over and over again, leaving multiple cuts both deep and small. Howling, Bruce was brought down on all fours. And the Tigress seized her window of opportunity by driving her foot into the man's temple.

A loud crack before he crumbled to the floor in a heap much too easily as his eyes slowly shut.

And almost immediately the warrior whipped around to face the pirate as she pointed her blade. Her face had distorted to become rage itself, and her mouth was curled into a permanent snarl of a hungry predator. A sinister look lined her blazing eyes, and every part of her trembled with pure hatred.

Looking into her ominous gaze, he couldn't help but feel he was looking at a past reflection of himself.

"Finally. It's now just you and me."

"And you claim I am the one with a lust for blood." Panting, the captain raised his sword.

Lunging, she reeled her weapon her weapon once more, her arm moving in powerful arches. Each swing showed off the sinewy muscles of the Tigress, and each swing whipped dangerously close to skin.

Tiger Lily almost lost footing from the uneven ground, and in her glimmer of vulnerability Hook slashed her thigh. She cried out and hurled her axe, allowing it to fly out from her fingers. Hook's arm moved on its own and blocked it with his sword. He hissed as a small bite was left on his cheek where the tip deadly had briefly touched it.

Before he could kick her fallen weapon over to the water, she lurched forward and plunged a small dagger deep into his side before ripping it out.

A burst of red blinded the captain's vision as he howled and blindly lashed his arm about. Tiger Lily flew back and retrieved her weapon, and Hook stumbled back to lean on the wall while clutching his side.

Everything throbbed. The heavy burden of weariness consumed his entire being like a raging fire, and because everything burned with pain he couldn't tell where he wasn't injured. His fresh injury continued releasing a flood of blood, and each precious drop took with it more and more pieces of his remaining energy.  
His limbs shook. Everything shook. The world merged into a nothing but shadowy blurs, and all he could hear was the pulsing of his heart and his ragged breaths. He could only watch as his enemy stalked over to him.

Tiger Lily straightened her posture, and she smirked before grabbing a fistful of hair. She repeatedly drove his head into the stone wall again and again. And each time his skull hit rock, an electric shock of pain jolted across his senses. When she released him he slumped to his knees, and then to all threes.

Tiger Lily's eyes grew lightness as she pulled out a dagger raised her arms up.

But right before she could swing it down and crack open the captain's skull, Bruce suddenly lurched up from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist. He let out a cry as he desperately hurled himself backwards and took the Tigress with him.

They tumbled to the ground into a writhing heap of grunts and huffs with the bigger man on top. Tiger Lily swung her knee up, hitting her assailant square on the nose. A loud crack resonated across the air, before crimson began sputtering out. He crashed flat onto his back, and the Tigress toppled on top and pinned him under her weight.

Clara entered back inside at the exact moment the chieftess pulled out her small dagger once again. Eyes widening, the girl quickly ducked behind a hiding spot, and horror caused every part of her to completely freeze. Gripping the knife with both hands, Tiger Lily raised her arm high above her head while, before swinging down with all her might and stabbing the man underneath right in the heart.

A breathy gasp escaped from the man. The blade was buried deep inside his now slowing heart, and with a short laugh the Tigress pulled it out once more. Bruce glanced up at his killer, his eyes shutting and rolling back.

The last thing he ever saw was the glint of metal blade dripping with his own blood, before all of him went limp.

Clara screamed the same time a crash of lightning erupted and momentarily blinded the world. Outside, the sooty gray sky and clouds darkened to an ashy black, and everything grew colder and more chaotic. The wind began to moan and weep like a banshee, as if it sensed the loss of a life and was now in mourning.  
In the deepest trenches of the ocean, the sirens were awakened once again. Their sharp teeth flashed as their gaping mouths stretched into a grin, and their demonic eyes glanced in the direction of where the immense despair came from. Their entire beings craved to consume the flesh the ominous emotion originated from, and their slippery forms darted across the waters towards the Black Castle.

But all the Tigress did was retrieve her fallen tomahawk from earlier before standing tall. Pride swelled from her being over her victory as she faced the captain once more. If she noticed the sudden wild thrashing that possessed the ocean, she chose to ignore it as she began striding over to where the Hook remained sprawled on the ground.

She deliberately took slow, measured steps and allowed her tainted axe to drag on the ground, creating a prolonged shrill wail of metal scratching against rock.  
The captain glanced at Bruce's fallen body. And that dull, solemn weight of remorse settled inside his chest. Every limb felt like leaden and dead, and he could feel more and more energy leaving him as more and more of his blood drained from his body and pooled at the cave floor like the corpse's. His eyelids were beginning to droop, and the same chilling sense of calmness from the morning execution filled his being once more.

She stopped in front of him.

Silence. The calmness in which she had suddenly fallen into chilled Hook to the very bones. It was a striking contrast compared to the rampart ferocity at which she had pursued him just minutes before. She continued to just stare at him for few moments, before sending a sudden kick to his injured side. A grunt from him, but no effort to fight back.

"To die would be a great adventure."

Hook kept still despite the searing pain of his stab wound.

"I've heard it's a rather dull one." With that, he watched as she raised the scythe, and he braced himself for the final blow.

 _"Enough!"_

A hysterical shriek of a banshee rang across Neverland, and a crash of white blinded everything momentarily. The chieftess jumped and nearly fell over, her eyes widening as everything exploded into a maniacal storm of brutality.

The captain winced but dismissed the sensation of ripping flesh as he sat up.

 _"Enough killing! Enough for one day!"_

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, but that wasn't the disturbing part at all. The disturbing part, was that it was the exact voice of Tiger Lily.

 _"Too many deaths! Too much! What have you done mortal woman?!"_

Another eruption of lighting.

"Who are you, stranger?" The dark woman's eyes were wide like a rabbit's and she quaked like a fragile leaf, even though just seconds before she had been a vicious predator.

 _"I, am Tiger Lily. The mighty and noble Chief of the Piccianies Indians!"_ There was mockery in the tone. The echoes brought Hook to a flashback of the exact time a similar incident had occurred to him. He blinked, and looked up at the endless staircases spiraling upwards.

But no one was there.

"If you are Tiger Lily, then who am I?" She drew pointed her weapon at the air, frantically still searching for the speaker.

 _"You, are a vicious murderer!"_

"No! I am a mighty warrior following tradition!"

 _"Tradition or not, you are still a killer!"_

"And you are an evil spirit!" A thin layer of cold sweat broke out across her skin.

 _"That's right. I am the spirit of death, and you have displeased me greatly."_

The warrior's breathing hitched.

"Atlantow..."

 _"Yes. I am Atlantow."_

Hook frowned upon hearing the very English pronunciation of the name, but the Indian leader did not seem to notice. She was too petrified to catch the subtle error.

"What wrong have I done?"

 _"You slaughtered and innocent children and men, and you have failed to protect your betrothed."_

Hook heard a slight crack in the voice, as if the soul it belonged to was pained. He glanced at the agitated waters, and spotted the mermaids that had begun to swarm about.

 _"The man that could have been your husband is dead, all because you insisted on coming here."_

"What?" The bride's faced paled.

 _"Ashkii is dead, because your lust for blood. He has joined with the one he was originally supposed to be with. If you had not followed your prisoners here, he would not have died. Go outside and see for yourself! He is gone. A rock has fallen and struck him, and he has fallen into the water and drowned. The mermaids have taken him already, and now you can never marry him."_

Tiger Lily screamed, and fell to her knees.

 _"Why my love?! Why?!"_ The "deceased" boy's voice now rang across the cave. From her hiding place, Clara considered moving to a different place.

The grieving bride looked up.

"Is that you? In spirit form?" Despite shaking violently, she stood and wandered back inside, searching for her lover's "ghost."

 _"Why?! Why have you allowed this?!"_

"Allow what?!" She searched and searched upwards, tears streaming down her face.

 _"We could have been married, but you had to come after them. Why my love? Why?!'_

"I'm sorry... Please forgive me. I...I had to do it for our tribe! For us! For us to be happy! Please forgive me!"

 _"I will, if you let them go."_ Clara slipped and almost tumbled out, but was able to catch herself in time. Hook saw the pebbles falling from the exact spot the girl was at, and caught a brief glimpse of orange hair.

And Tiger Lily saw as well.

"Really?" A frown.

The captain's heart skipped a beat, and there was a pang of pain when he sat up too quickly. He winced, and for a moment all he could see was searing red.

 _"Yes._ " Clara slipped further into the shadows and venturing further up.

"All I have to do, is let them go?" She began prowling towards the moving outline like a huntress, and her eyes glinted with vicious intent. Her eyes had grown dangerously cold, and all traces of her earlier quivering and sniveling was gone.

 _"And all will be pardoned."_ Clara tip-toed up the steps without making a sound. The dark veiled her from view rather well, but the Tigress's sharp eyes did not miss the blurry, moving silhouette above her.

"Tell me, what was your name again? I have forgot."

Clara's blood ran cold.

 _"I am... Atlantis."_

Tiger Lily's eyes narrowed.

"Oh really? I thought you were Atlantow."

"I said that!" Clara gasped upon hearing her own voice again. And quickly continued her retreat up the stairs.

A flash of white lighting filled the entire cave, and in that split-second Clara could be clearly seen standing above them at the stairs.

"You! I knew it!" The chieftess hurled her axe. The girl ducked, and the hatchet clattered off the stairs before plunging into the water.

Immediately Clara shot up steps as fast as she could.

Tiger Lily pulled out a hidden gun. But before she could shoot, Hook threw himself forward smacked the weapon out from her hand. He tried forcing the woman's arms behind her, but the Indian princess was stronger and she elbowed his injury once more before taking off after Clara while snarling like a beast.

The captain crumbled to ground again while clutching open wound sputtering with fresh blood, and gritting his teeth he grabbed the fallen pistol. Still clutching his side, Hook forced himself to stand and painstakingly dragged his rapidly weakening body after them.

And he watched in horror as the Tigress flung a knife and as it whizzed past Clara's ear. She squeaked and jerked as some skin was torn off, but she didn't stop. The dagger clattered down out of sight, and Clara continued sprinting. The Tigress was hot at her heels, snarling and clawing as she stalked her prey. The most savage form of rage ignited within the princess, and the poisonous feeling of vengeance was what propelled her on.

Eyes blazing with pure bloodlust, the princess seized one of Clara's ankles. The two both fell and slipped down a couple steps. Clara squeaked and kicked, striking an eye. The chief released her, and at her moment of distraction Clara clambered away on all fours.

About halfway, far from where the ladies were located, the captain continued hauling himself forwards while dangerously teetering too close to the verge. Hot and cold flashes racked through his core, and with each passing second it grew more and more difficult to move. His vision blurred in and out of focus, and his consciousness was draining much too fast.

She cannot die. No, she must not die.

Gritting his teeth, he pummeled on and ignored his injury that screamed out in agony. His eyes focused don the two females figures ahead of him. He swayed about and crawled on all threes, but his slow-paced chase was momentarily halted by an old man's voice.

"Captain!" Behind, Hook found Smee with others on another rowboat. They were shooting at the blasted gray creatures, who all hissed and recoiled as far as they could from the men.

"Smee!" He winced and took in a sharp breath. "Go help Clara right now!"

"But yer in great need of help sir!" Smee shot a siren that nearly grabbed onto one of the men. The small raft somehow made it near the steps that Hook stood at the top of. The crew continued shooting at the mermaids as they got off the tiny boat. Smee was the first to begin rushing up towards him, and the sound of his heavy footsteps were drowned out by the sound of more thunder.

Facing forward again, Hook's resolve strengthened and he resumed his climb. Smee could not reach her in time.

At the very top, Clara found herself staring at a flat, empty room of sorts. But at the very center, there was an opening in the snap of a perfect circle that plummeted straight to the water. There was nowhere else to go but down, whether it was through the way she had come or through the hazardous gap.

"You."

A low whisper.

Shuddering, Clara spun around. The princess was only five steps away. Gulping, the girl stepped back, carefully going around the aperture that led to the sirens. But the chieftess was fast, and soon she was but a nose distance away.

"You killed him."

Clara could feel her hot breaths upon her cheeks.

"I did not!"

Tiger Lily lunged and grabbed Clara's throat. She rammed into solid rock behind her. She was given no time to recover, for within a second the warrior drew her arm back and smashed her fist across her cheek. A slight crack resonated in the air, and the girl gasped. Before the Tigress could begin repeatedly pummeling her, Clara sprang up and slammed her head against the chief's nose.

A louder crack rippled across the air, and a blinding flare of red consumed the Tigress. She screamed. She knew by the constant spurting of blood and throbbing that the bone had shattered.

Clara slid under her legs and scrambled towards the stairs. Tiger Lily whipped around and launched her battered body. Both crashed onto the damp ground, Clara at the bottom.

Clara writhed about, her knees frantically trying to throw her attacker off.

Blood from her nose gushed and landed on pale eyelids. The two were nothing but a tangle of thrashing limbs.

Spit, tears, and more drops of crimson sprayed everywhere. The madwoman clasped Clara's hair, and began repeatedly pounding her head against the ground over and over again.

The drop was now very close.

"Why did you have to kill him?" Tiger Lily paused to catch her breath, and Clara thought she heard the faintest traces of the grief from earlier lining her tone.

The girl's breathing was ragged and shallow, and everything spun around and grew more faint. A terrible sensation of numbness and possessed her and everything buzzed. Despite feeling as if she was being hammered into stone, she managed to speak up in a feeble whisper.

"I did not."

Tiger Lily blinked, before her fingers loosened from the tangled locks that now had stains of red.

"What?"

"He is alive. I told him to leave while he could, and he did."

"Why?"

"Because he deserved a better life, than the one he was to spend with you. Why is it that you can't see, that not everything can be how you want it to be? Are you incapable of knowing that your way is not always the right way?"

The chieftess was stunned to silence for a little bit. She just stared down at the girl pinned underneath her, who stared right back with fiery eyes.

At that exact moment, Hook made it the very top, and he spotted the two figures near the gap. His eyes widened, and silently, he readied the gun with great difficulty with his only hand.

"Why have you ruined everything?!" The chieftess wailed like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum. "Everything was going to be so perfect! Just like how I had envisioned it to be! According to tradition!"

With shaking hands, he pointed the gun at the Tigress's head. But then Clara spoke up again.

"Because you were going to kill the man that I loved."

He stopped breathing for a second. Who...Who was she talking about?

"You love Hook?" A flicker of dismay darted across the Tigress's features. And a moment of silence echoed in the air.

"Yes. I do."

Time froze. Everything froze. Had he heard correctly? Or was he spiraling into delirium?

"I love him more than I've ever loved anyone else. Or ever will."

No. She was actually saying those words. She appeared so feeble, so tired. She was lying so still, obviously near the point of unconsciousness. And she was still completely unaware of Hook's presence.

But Tiger Lily was not.

She glanced up and caught sight of the look on the captain's face. And seeing how he gazed at the body trapped under her, how he felt was crystal clear. He didn't need to say anything for her suspicions to be confirmed once and for all.

It was his fault. Everything was his fault. And she was going to take what was most precious to him.

The Tigress emitted a bloodthirsty snarl before placing both hands around the girl's pale throat. She squeezed her pale neck and Clara bucked from underneath. The two small women began to roll, scraping against the sharp rocks as they struggled against the other. They teetered at the very verge.

Hook shakily pointed the pistol again, but the two moved around too much, and so he could not shoot in fear of striking the wrong woman. And so, his finger simply hovered over the trigger but did not fully press down on it. All he could do was helplessly watch the blur of tangled limbs and call out the girl's name.

At the bottom of the pit, the sirens waited with their mouths wide open. They licked their lips, stares fixating on the struggling humans at the very top.  
The girl blindly lashed out, but the heavy body on top of her didn't budge. Her earlier head trauma only quickened the rate at which she lost oxygen, as well as the bleary fuzziness that began to settle in her brain.

"Clara!"

Hearing him rekindled her clarity, and fear quickly seeped into her mind. She thrashed about in a bout of panic-induced hysteria, and she acquiesced to her most basic and primitive survival instincts.

She roared the same time as the crash of lighting, and inhumane strength rushed to her limbs.  
Tiger Lily barely saved herself from having an eye ripped out from her socket. Before she could recover, Clara drove her knee into the bride's stomach before kicking her off.

And the Indian princess plunged into the waiting, webbed hands of wet monsters. And before she even had the time to scream, she was dragged off to the very bottom while sharp teeth began tearing off her flesh. Her shrieks and screams were no more than muffled gurgles, and her violent flails were no more but a few ripples in the water.

Clara watched with glassy eyes as the blurry gray outlines sunk deeper and deeper into nothing but blackness. And once they disappeared forever, her eyes rolled back as she finally succumbed to her exhaustion with a small sigh.

She toppled backwards onto the cold ground. But the last thing she heard was her name being called, as well as the sensation of someone lifted her up and wrapping her in their arms.

* * *

 _My Noble Reader,_

 _I sure hope this hasn't been terribly disappointing. this has been by far the longest, hardest, and worst chapters I have ever written lol. It gave me writers block but I am now back on track and will enjoy finishing up the last few chapters of this very experimental story._

 _I do not have much experience writing the climax of stories, and although I carefully planned out this story before writing all of it a lot of editing and some minor tweaking has occurred since._ _My main fears for writing this far was things not making much sense. I am not exactly a professional writer, and I am more of a visual person. And because of this, I often have everything so clear and perfectly planned in my head like a movie, but transferring such visions onto paper is obviously much more difficult since you're dealing with a blank page, and everyone imagines things differently._

 _And so I decide not to be an utter control freak but I don't know how it worked out._

 _Also, I tend to day dream about my scenes repeatedly for weeks before actually writing it, and sometimes by the time I actually commence a chapter I have gone over exactly what happens so many times I fail to deliver an impactful tale/ I leave out important details._

 _I have thought about and had many difficulties writing these past several chapters, mainly because it took me a bit to plan out exactly what was to happen, and making sure that I wrote down all the details and explained it so that an outsider/not my brain would understand. Please tell me where I went wrong so that I may learn from the error and learn from it in the future, but I think these difficult and long chapters were good practice for me. Well, this story in general was a an experiment and I had a lot of fun and difficulty in trying out new things(you were all my test guinea pigs sorry)._

 _I hope that what I have written is something vaguely similar to the creation in my head, and I hope that I have not disappointed you tremendously due to my inferior writing abilities. If I have, I do apologize, but I hope that some parts of the story were a little enjoyable._

 _I apologize for the long wait once again, but I hope the wait was forgiven as well as my inferior writing skills ahaha..._

 _Thank you all for sticking with this amateur story so far, and I love all of you. And of course, I offer my humble gratitude to the kind souls who took time to drop a small review and make a huge impact on my day( **MusicalsandMordreds,** **theususalguest** , **VelvetGoldie** , and **Demigodathena** )_

 _-StrangelyRamblingSoul_

 _-P.S, I lied I kind've am a sadistic killer of a writer. But I personally viewed a certain character's death to be necessary for the sake of Clara actually having a solid motive to take the risk of confronting the almighty warrior Tiger Lily._

 _-P.P.S I apologize for those of you who actually liked the canon character of Tiger Lily. Again, I kind've interpreted everything in my own weird way but I still mirrored some parts of the original story. (Also there is a real book out there called Tiger Lily featuring her as the MC written by Jodi Lynn Anderson, and I think it was quite dope. Well, my twelve year old self thought it was.)_


	26. Chapter 26

**Pleas**

The captain could not sit still.

He continued to dab at the girl's forehead with a cold cloth, but it didn't seem to help at all.

Clara looked so small and frail in his over-sized bed, and she still looked as terrible as when he had found her. She had not woken from her fitful sleep since they had returned two days ago, and the captain had not focused on anything except on restoring her health. He had abandoned his duty on looking after the ship and his crew members, and he especially had neglected his own health as well.

 _"I love him more than I've ever loved anyone else. Or ever will."_

He had not even fully acknowledged she had a girlish infatuation on him. But it did not matter how baffled he was of the notion, for he knew no matter how much he doubted and thought about it, it was indeed true. After all, even she wasn't foolish enough to risk her very life for just anyone.

Two days of no sleep and restless pacing.

Just like the first day, Clara was still littered with injuries both big and small, and her breathing was shallow and uneven. The feverish layer of sweat had not left her forehead. Every so often she would whimper or let out a choked scream. For the entirety of her unconscious state, she had relived the nightmarish encounter with the deceased Indian leader over and over again.

But tonight, she was disturbed with a different nightmare instead.

The captain tried his best to placate the girl smoothing down her hair. But whatever haunted the her did not go away.

She hiccupped as she struggled to breathe through her cries. And all the captain wanted to was make whatever that was plaguing her to go away. She was such a pitiful mess, and she looked no different from the first day they had brought her in.

"Sorry." A hoarse whisper. The captain frowned, listening carefully for her next words.

"Father...I'm sorry..." She was weeping.

And a fresh, unfamiliar wave of guilt crashed over the captain. And he said nothing, knowing she wouldn't hear his words anyways. He kept the back of his hand on her burning cheek, and all he could do was just watch as she whispered more feeble apologies before falling silent once again.

A knock at the door.

Turning around, he didn't have time to answer for Smee entered. He had a tray of food in his hands.

"Any change sir?" The pudgy man eyed the still unconscious girl, and his disappointment showed in his eyes.

Hook looked past the old boatswain and caught a brief glimpse of their new recruit, which was the former fiancé of Tiger Lily. The boy was biting down on his nail, and leaning in, trying to get a peek at the still-unconscious girl. He too had dark circles lining his eyes underneath.

Hook had not personally spoken with Ashkii, but he knew that the boy would be a fine addition to his crew.

"Oh my. She's still looking poorly." The old man set down the dinner tray before waddling over to the occupant of the captain's bed. Placing his wrinkled hand on her forehead, he clicked his tongue whilst shaking his head.

"Poor lass. Is she still having nightmares?"

"Seems so."

After regarding the girl for few more moments, the old man turned his attention back to his superior once again.

"You need to eat sir."

No answer.

Taking the seat next to the pirate leader, Smee continued his gentle chidings.

"After all, how can you take care of the lass if you aren't taking care of yerself?"

The captain absently brushed his thumb over the back of Clara's hand, his gaze never leaving her face for even a second.

"Smee."

Despite his voice sounding even and neutral, Smee could hear the anguish and longing that lurked behind the tone. He was also taken aback by the vulnerability the captain plainly displayed in his eyes for anyone to see.

"Aye sir?"

"What if she doesn't wake up?"

The old boatswain stared long and hard at his long-time superior.

 _Smee remembered the first time he had ever seen him, which was a very long time ago when the captain had been no older than ten. He had been captured by Black Beard as the new cabin boy, and he had been badly beaten up for resisting and shoved into a small storage room for refusing to join them._

 _He had put up such a fierce fight for somebody so small, and he never failed to throw cutting insults with that high-pitched voice of his._

 _Mr. Smee had been younger man then, just leaving his forties. He had been ordered to bring food the new prisoner. Despite the boy remaining calm and still while looking about ready to bite Smee's hand off, his eyes gave away the wild fear he was overcome with._

 _"Get away." The growl in the boy's voice had not fooled Smee._

 _"Tis alright lad, I'm just here to give ya food. No need to be afraid."_

 _The mini tyrant sneered._

 _"Of course not. It's not like you are a vicious pirate or anything."_

 _Smee noticed the boy's clothes were torn and ripped. But despite being so, he could tell they were definitely not clothes from Neverland._

 _"What's your name lad? My name's Smee." He had pushed the tray of food towards him, and sat down on the opposite side while closing the cell door behind him. The boy tensed, and Smee could tell he wanted to push himself into the corner, as far away from him as possible._

 _"What do you want from me?" His words came out rushed, and there was strain in his voice._

 _"I want to talk to you. What's your name?"_

 _Eyeing the older man up and down, the child forced himself to speak up again._

 _"James."_

 _"Yer surname?"_

 _He lowered his head._

 _"I don't have one."_

 _"How come?"_

 _"Mind your own business old man!" He turned his face away, as if the sight of Smee disgusted him immensely._

 _Smee was able to read between the lines, and guess that the boy wasn't a legitimate child... But he didn't pry any further over that specific topic._

 _"Where are you from?"_

 _He faced the pudgy man again with sadness lingering in his eyes._

 _"Berkshire England. I don't understand how I came to be here, but I must return immediately. My mother will be terribly worried for me, and I promised I would come home before dinner."_

 _"I'll tell ya what. I'll help you get back home again. I'll train you in being a pirate, and all you have to do is listen carefully and do as I say."_

 _"You don't understand. I need to return right now."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"She suffers from a serious illness, and so I must to go right now. I have two younger sisters and a brother. They need me." He looked and sounded so pleading and desperate, and Smee had never seen anyone who looked more lost and confused than the little prisoner boy before him._

And in the present moment, he found the exact same look from all those years ago back on the captain's face once again. Sympathy tugged at the old man's heart, and it compelled him to rest a gentle hand on the younger man's shoulder.

Hook glanced up, and despite feeling extremely worn out he frowned the slightest.

"What in Neverland has come over you?" He eyed the pudgy man's hand on his shoulder, painting on a rather exaggerated look of disgust onto his features. "Get your filthy hands off of me this instant."

But despite saying so, he made no attempt to fight off the physical contact. Nor was there any real anger lurking in his face or tone.

"She will be fine Capt'n. I know it. But sir, you need to a break. I'll watch over the lass." He spoke in such a soft tone, as if he was a mother.

Hook frowned.

"You want me to leave her side?"

Smee nodded.

"What an absurd notion. I have no intention of-"

"Sir."

The captain was taken aback by the firmness of his tone.

"When she wakes up, she would be furious that I didn't make you rest. Please sir, you haven't had time to recover either. Please go eat something and take a break."

Hook turned to gaze at the girl again. And Smee didn't have to be told to know what the look in his eyes meant.

"Don't worry sir. I'll watch her."

* * *

Leaning onto the railing, He gazed out into the ocean. It was calm and serene, and it sparkled from the reflection of the bright full moon. The beauty of the night almost seemed to mock Hook, for it did not match the turmoil coiled up inside of him.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and buried his head in his hand. And a soon as he did, the torrent of thoughts he had kept pushing away rushed in all at once. She was so terribly ill...

What if she were to die?

Shuddering, Hook forced himself to stand upright piece together a plan.

Perhaps he and a few others could quickly row to the village again. It wasn't ideal, but it was a start. The ship was rendered completely useless, and no matter how fast they worked, it would still take a long time to repair just like last time. Or maybe they could send someone and have them fetch what they needed.

But what did they need?

Despite having a lot of experience tending to wounds, Hook and Smee were not doctors. They only had the very basic knowledge on treating cuts and broken bones, but other types of injuries such as internal ones were out of their skill to treat. And Clara appeared to have received some trauma to the brain, and their worst fear was that it was more than just a concussion.

And that was quite beyond their skill indeed.

Without knowing the captain had slammed a fist into the railing, and unluckily for him he had struck a weaker spot which had begun rotting away. And so, he found himself staring into a small, splintery hole which he unintentionally created.

Before he could slip further into his bout of anxiety, his ears picked up the familiar and obnoxiously shrill sound of jingling bells.

 _"Hook!"_ She shrieked out to him, and he flinched. And before he knew it, the blasted creature was flittering about right in his face. And he swatted at her as if she was pesky insect.

 _"Hook! Hook! Hook! I need your help! Are you listening?! Hook!"_ Her glow was bright orange, meaning she was extremely panicked.

"Oh do shut up. No need to scream, I am not deaf you know. What could you possibly want from me?"

And all of the sudden, the floodgate of bottled emotions erupted from the tiny being, and she practically melted into a mess of sniffles and sobs. She landed on the railing and sunk to her knees, and almost immediately her wings drooped down like the rest of her. Her glow faded from the glaring orange hue to a dark shade of grayish blue.

 _"Please, I really need your help. I will do anything."_ The fairy was weeping quite uncontrollably, and she barely managed to sputter out the words in between gasps and hiccups. And the captain couldn't help but feel sympathy towards the creature. After all, she was quite a pitiful mess.

Sighing, he pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to the sobbing sprite. And she took it, loudly blowing her nose. And as she did so, Hook lowered himself to his knees so that he was at least eye-level with the pixie who continued to cry.

"Miss. Bell. I do not have the desire or energy to offer you any sort of comfort. Just tell me what's wrong and be quick about it. I have very little patience left." But despite saying so, he still waited as the tiny lady struggled to stifle her cries and piece together what little composure she had left. After all, her hysterical sobbing reminded him another young woman who was also prone to bawling like a baby.

"Whatever is the matter?" He sighed again, and listened for a response. After a few more sniffles and shaky breaths, the fairy rubbed at her eye before speaking up.

 _"I've done something terrible there was a horrible accident and it was all my fault I didn't meant to do it and-"_

"Do not talk so fast, I won't understand you. Now tell me. What exactly happened? What is this horrible accident you speak of?"

 _"My poor Peter is terribly hurt and sick because of me!"_ A fresh tsunami of tears overwhelmed the tiny woman, and as she succumbed to her emotions once more Hook took his time to process her words.

Hurt. Sick. What on earth did the fairy do? Had she broken all of his bones?

 _"Alright, tell me what happened."_

It took some time, but the small sprite recounted everything that had happened. She had explained everything, from her conversation with Clara to Mr. Banning's failure to fly. And with each syllable the fairy uttered, the captain's face grew more grim.

The notion of Peter Pan forgetting how to fly would had been laughable to Hook in the past. But now, in his mind, Peter was no longer the imp he wanted to blast the brains of. After all, he was the father of the young lady Hook desperately wished to see wake up.

She obviously missed her father very much. But she was also so obviously miserable in London.

She had not been meant to live as a demure doll draped onto the arm of some boring proper oaf. After all, she was a wild spirit. She was meant to live freely and chase after her every whim, just like her father.

But he knew that she wasn't completely like Pan, much to Hook's relief. The boy- Or...The man, had always been immune to irritating emotions referred to as guilt and remorse. Clara probably understood staying meant abandoning her father for good. She obviously had not thoroughly considered her coming to Neverland in the first place, but surely by now she had realized that staying meant never seeing him gain.

 _"I overheard some humans say that he shouldn't be able to live for very long."_

The dreadful, familiar words conjured up the memory of a woman with dark hair and blue eyes. A memory he was sure he had forgotten.

A terrible ache settled in Hook's chest, and his eyes flew open.

"How long does he have left?"

 _"I don't know... Some man named Doctor said it could be ten days or ten years."_

Hook could only imagine what hideous feelings would possess him if he were to lose Clara...But Pan had already experienced them when Wendy had died. But what about Clara? She would live the rest of her life with the burden of knowing she betrayed her own father in the worst way possible. And be plagued with the guilt of knowing he died alone.

He couldn't make her endure that. No. He couldn't make her live the rest of her life, crying over what wasn't and what could have been.

He left the deck and quietly, he opened the door to his bedroom and slipped inside once again.

Smee was snoring away in a chair right next to the bed where the girl was at. But Hook merely walked past him, so that he was standing by the bedside looking down at the girl's sleeping form.

She was so young, and so very beautiful. She could easily have any young man she fancied, and Hook was sure back in London there was an endless line of bachelors fighting for her attention. Rich, young, handsome men. Men who could shower with the love and affection and safety she so very much deserved.

 _What have you to offer?_

Eventually, she would come to realize that living at sea was not for everyone. Maybe she would grow tired and wish to settle down... But she could never have a beautiful house or mansion. She could never be completely safe or at peace on the island: there was always the constant threat of danger. Even though she was wild now, that didn't mean she would be forever. After all, even Peter found the same game of danger to grow dull over time.

And Hook remembered how quickly he himself had become so addicted to the life of piracy, only to be hit with an overwhelming wave of homesickness. And one day it would be the same for her.

One day she would want to return to her home, and when she does only to find that it wasn't home anymore. Only to find that too much time had passed, and to find herself in a completely different century. Only to find somebody else occupying the house she used to live in, and surrounded by nothing but strangers and strange buildings.

He didn't want her to go back, only to find herself utterly lost and alone in a completely different world.

Hook ripped his stare away.

He reached over to Smee and shook him. The old man jolted from his sleep, and panic immediately flooded his being upon seeing a pair of blue eyes right in his face.

"I was watching the girl!" He closed his eyes and sucked in his breath as he braced himself for a painful blow. A blow which never came.

"Smee. I want you to get a rowboat ready."

His eyes flew open, before he blinked for a couple moments.

"Pardon me sir?"

"Rowboat. Quickly. We're going to London. The blasted fairy is at the deck. She will be compliant."

"What? How... What-"

"Go."

"But-"

"Please."

Smee never imagined he'd hear the word directed towards him or even come out of his mouth in general. But he didn't say anything more, for the pleading look in the captain's eyes was enough for him to know that the conversation was over. And so, he rose and left the room, leaving Hook alone with Clara once again. And when the old man was gone, Hook slumped into the chair Smee had been in just seconds ago, and allowed a heavy sigh to escape his lips as he buried his head in his hands.

* * *

A quiet whisper of twinkling bells and the muffled sound of heavy boots disturbed the Banning Mansion. Yet, no one in the house so much as stirred from their slumber. All the servants: the maids, the chefs, the nurses... They remained deeply lost in their dreams and were deaf to low murmuring voices of the strangers in their opulent home.

 _"Can't you hurry up?!"_ The sprite flitted about the captain's head, circling at least twice before zooming forward once again.

Gritting his teeth, Hook dismissed the fairy as well as the burning pain of his wound threatening to reopen. Instead of responding with a snide remark, the man continued walking in silence, arms holding up an unconscious figure.

And as he stalked through the corridors, the thick sensation of dread sunk into the captain's being like a heavy fog.

Everything inside the mansion was so very perfectly symmetrical, from the windows to the paintings to the furniture. Tall, sharp shadows of perfect lines ran across the ground, resembling the metal bars that caged prisoners. The mysterious creaks and squeaks that haunted the house were eerily similar to the sound of nails grating against steel.

Despite the unsettling sensation of claustrophobia that began creeping into the edges of his mind, the captain continued marching forward, following the small orb of light guiding his way. And soon, he slipped into the only lit room of the lonely castle.

It was a silent room, and the first thing he saw was a withered old man sitting by a dead fire, surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol. He was sitting in a strange chair with what looked like wheels at the bottom. His hair was now completely white, and he was shivering quite violently inside of the lonely room.

 _"Oh Peter..."_ Tinkerbell sucked in a breath, and without looking Hook knew that crocodile tears threatened to spill from her eyes. But before he could say anything, the fairy shot across the room and burst through the open double doors that led to the balcony.

The man was so old. Much older than the captain, and probably older than Smee, in fact. Hook, despite knowing a lot of time had passed, was shocked to see just how much Mr. Banning had aged from before. And although he had expected the man to have gained a few years, seeing it in person was different from the thought.

After regarding the familiar stranger for a few more moments, Hook dismissed him and refocused on his original task. Quietly walking past, he winced when he reached the empty bed and began lowering its rightful owner into it. Gently, he took care in making sure every part of her was securely tucked underneath the protective sheets. She released a soft sigh and snuggled into the warmth.

And when she was finally settled in, it finally dawned upon the captain that it would be the last time he would ever see the girl.

Heart and spirit sinking, the familiar ache of longing and loneliness settled deep in the pit of his stomach once again. Every part of him grew leaden and stiff, for he realized he had returned to the very fate he had hoped to escape from.

The girl shifted so that she faced his direction more. Already her breathing had evened out, and her expression had grown peaceful. It was as if she recognized she had returned to her own bed inside of her own home, which welcomed her with warm, open arms.

Ignoring the fact he was running out of time, he lowered his guard and allowed himself to lean closer. Close enough to feel the girl's warm breaths on his cheeks. Letting out an inaudible sigh, he savored every detail and branded it into his memory, knowing he would revisit the moment whenever he could. He took in how some stray strands of hair glowed when the light hit, mimicking a flickering fire.

His gaze swept across her face, but eventually wandered to the special spot at the corner of the lips. The pirate inside him screamed for him to claim it as his own, and without realizing, he found himself brushing a finger over it while leaning ever so slowly. Succumbing to his impulse to take what he desired, he soon found himself at but a breath's distance away from the prize.

But then his senses returned, and he shot to his feet once again.

No. He wouldn't take her first kiss, especially not in this manner. It did not belong to him, for she had not given it to him. His former self would have taken it without a second thought, and perhaps even smile from self-satisfaction. After all, the captain had stolen so many things in his life, and this was no different.

He considered the girl once more. She remained blissfully oblivious to where she was and what he had almost done.

 _She loves you._

The pirate inside him whispered that it still wasn't too late, that he could take the girl away and back before anyone woke up... If he were to leave at that very moment, he could steal her away forever and keep her to himself. Or he could always whisk her away in the dead of night a little while later, after some time had passed in her world, after she had recovered.

He found himself kneeling beside her bed, face inches from hers.

 _Take her. Take what you want most._

He continued gazing at her. Staring deeply into her closed eyelids, he half expected them to fly open and for him to stare into the green eyes he didn't realize he had missed seeing. And he didn't look away for a long time, as if he waited long enough his wish would come true. As if she would wake up if he stared hard enough.

But of course, she did not stir.

Closing his eyes, he released a sigh. And once he opened them, he planted a brief kiss on the top of her forehead, before slowly rising and turning away.

Deliberately taking soundless steps, he stopped once he was standing in front of the old man once again. He stared down at the fragile form shriveled up into a slouching ball of skin and bones, and a bitter look of jealousy and disgust filled his eyes.

"Wendy." The elderly man's faint whisper sounded close to a whimper, and he shuddered upon feeling the icy breeze sweeping in from the open windows. And the thin blanket which had been draped over his knees slipped off and pooled at his feet. And Hook tensed when he finally noticed the man's legs.

Or at least, what was left of them.

Half of his legs were gone. His trousers had been custom sewn to stop right at the knees, since past them there was absolutely nothing. There were no calves, no feet. Nothing. Nothing but just the empty space of air.

Swallowing, Hook had to look away. And he knew that under the fabric would be two stumps, similar to the one on his right arm. And after a brief moment, he forced himself to bend over and pick up the fallen blanket, before carefully placing it over sleeping man's shoulders. And almost immediately after he did, the elderly man curled within himself, gathering the fabric closer to his frail form.

Hook briskly left the room without looking back. He shut the door behind him quite loudly, and as he intended the noise jolted the old man awake. And as soon as he did, his green eyes landed on the bed.

Upon hearing Mr. Banning's exclamation of surprise, James Hook left knowing he would never return to England again.

* * *

 _My Fair Readers,_

 _I am relieved to hear that the chapter previous to the ones I have updated weren't completely horrendous(except for the really embarrassing typos), and that some have expressed their satisfaction with them( **MusicalsandMordreds** and **theusualguest** ). I appreciated the flattery very much, and after taking a few days off I found the inspiration to write once again after reading **VelvetGoldie's** story, " **to believe in fairies"** once again._

 _Her work was what had finally pushed to be to actually write this story, and I am aware that I unconsciously have been influenced by her amazing writing. I did not realize that she also had a character (a minor one) named Clara as well which I promise was a complete coincidence lol. Anyways, my point is that she's awesome and one of my many inspirations in creating this humble, imperfect and experimental story._

 _Thank you all for sticking with this story so far, and the final number of chapters for this story will be 30. I have started on all of them, and am close to finishing them._

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	27. Chapter 27

**Stars**

Miss. Banning rose and got ready for her day before the sunrise like she had every morning, at the same time the rest of the servants did.

She no longer slept in her bedroom on the east side of the mansion, no. Her sleeping quarters now were right next to Mr. Banning's, and it only consisted of the bare necessities such as a bed and wardrobe. And in this room, there was a very peculiar string with a bell at the end.

The woman stared at the small ornament, noting to herself that it did not ring at all the night before, meaning Mr. Banning had slept quite well. It was a silver little thing, and the gleam of metal always conjured up the faint, unforgotten dreams of a silver hook.

Shivering, the woman quickly dismissed the memory and threw her hair up into a messy bun, before exiting her room. Once she entered into the hallway, she spotted the two housemaids scurrying past, both with their heads bowed and eyes cast down. They hurried on by without even mumbling a simple 'good morning.' And so, Clara returned the favor and also did not acknowledge their presence.

After all, she knew what all the servants whispered of when they thought she wasn't listening.

The same old mystery of her disappearance from ten years before still haunted the minds of the Banning residence like a persistent ghost. Clara had expected the wild rumors to die over time, but reality had proven her wrong. With every year that passed, another wild speculation would surface and spread to all the neighbors.

Clara had heard it all before.

Perhaps she had been kidnapped and held for ransom, and that was the true reason behind Mr. Banning's debt. Or perhaps the girl had gone crazy, and the voices in her head had led her far, far away from home leaving her stranded in a strange place she did not know. Or perhaps she had a mental breakdown, and Mr. Banning had locked her in an asylum. But he tried to cover it up by paying reporters to write about her supposed disappearance, and even bribed the police in the charade.

Of course, most people believed the last story the most. After all, Clara had ranted and raved of Neverland and pirates for the entire first week of her return. And although she knew that she was not a madwoman, that she had not hallucinated the entire experience... No one believed her story.

And so she had no choice but to accept that to everyone else, she was just as mentally ill as her father.

Shaking herself out of her unhappy thoughts, Miss. Banning straightened her posture, before reaching out for the master bedroom's doorknob. But before she could turn, a voice stopped her.

"Miss. Banning."

Turning, she spotted Baron.

He was a large, mountain of a man and he was Peter's nurse. In his bear mitts was a small breakfast tray, which consisted of a glass of orange juice and a tray of toast and jam. Baron was a man of few words and of a gentle disposition, and he was also the only one who never spoke a single ill word about either of his employers.

"There's a gentleman requesting you at the door."

"Oh? Is it that pesky Renard again?" Clara suppressed a sigh.

Ever since her return, there had been daily tsunamis of reporters and journalists slamming on her doors and smashing the doorbells, demanding her to come out and answer their incessant, repetitive questions. After she refused to meet any of them or practically scream she couldn't remember for years and years and years, they all eventually gave up.

All except Renard that is.

"Afraid so. I think he wants to ask you some questions."

"Alright, thank you Bruce."

Baron turned to her at that moment, a perplexed frown lining his features.

"Pardon me miss? My name isn't Bruce. It's Baron."

Clara froze, and cursed herself inwardly.

"Oh...Oh I'm terribly sorry Baron." She shook her head, as if it would shake off her thoughts. "I am just a bit tired today. Excuse me, I think I'll deal with that pesky reporter."

With that, she marched past.

Once she stood in front of the door, she peered into the peep hole. And sure enough, she could see her long-time harasser- or rather, reporter- Standing there.

She growled under her breath, and the brief thought of leaving him outside flittered across her mind. But she quickly squashed the notion, for she could not have him knocking for hours and disrupt the entire household like last time.

He was a little older than Clara, and had dark hair and eyes. Despite the charming facade he put up, there was a wolfish quality to his features, as if he was always ready for another prey to kill. Or rather, expose in his newspaper article.

Swallowing the tightness in her throat and painting a look of aloofness, she braced herself for a series of uncomfortable and prying questions before violently flinging open the door.

He jumped a bit. But once seeing the young woman, he grinned.

"State your business and make it quick." Her words were sharp and icy to match the poison ivy eyes, yet the stern expression did nothing to deter the journalist.

"Good day Miss. Banning. How are you?"

"Skip the formalities and get to the point. You have a minute to waste my time, and after it is up I will shut this door in your face."

"Ah well, I was just here to ask you some questions." He continued speaking with a charming grin. "Everyone cannot help but be curious as to what happened while you were gone."

"And I thought I had made it clear that I do not recall what has happened. Even the psychologists have officially stated that I suffer from amnesia." The lie rolled effortlessly from her lips, and she didn't even bat an eyelash.

Of course she remembered everything… It was simply that no one believed her.

"Oh, but psychologists aren't real doctors of any kind. They are not credible in any means. And it is just simply far-fetched to believe in such a sloppy lie... Miss. Banning, don't you think it's time you opened up and revealed the truth to everyone? All of England would appreciate knowing what really happened. "

Huffing, Clara lost the last of her already nonexistent patience and attempted to close the door. But Renard stuck his foot in, preventing her from doing so.

"Was it a man perhaps? Had you stolen away with a secret lover that you weren't supposed to be with? After all...You are still quite a ravishing woman." His eyes roved up and down her body, in a similar manner to a disgusting pirate she had met long ago.

Face burning and clenching her fists, Clara stuck her nose up in the air while struggling to keep her trembling of rage under control.

"I have not done anything dishonorable, and it is extremely improper for a man to ask a woman such intrusive questions, regardless of you being a reporter or not. There is still a fine line in which you do not cross and a level of respect and privacy you must maintain. And so far, you have not done neither of those things. Goodbye. I hope you have a nice day."

Before Clara could slam the door, Renard grabbed it and forced it open. He stood just a mere-nose distance away from her, and he was glaring down with the most animalistic look of lust inside of his eyes.

"Listen here. I heard from the doctors that Mr. Banning doesn't have much time left to live. That means you'll have to marry quite soon, as I'm sure you're aware."

Clara's blood ran cold, and her stomach dropped. She gulped but refused to break eye-contact.

"I do not have to if I do not wish to."

A dark chuckle rolled off of Renard's lips.

"I think you know better than I do that women still don't have equal rights to men. Those idiotic suffragists may think they'll be able to win, but that is not the case." He glanced down at Clara's lips, and licked his own. "A woman is nothing without a man, and I want to make you mine."

Clara shuddered, and crinkled her nose upon smelling his sour breath in her face.

"You have committed social suicide by not marrying when you were still twenty. I'm still willing to take you, because I can't see myself with any other woman. And you won't get a better offer." He grabbed her face with his filthy hands, and tilted his head as if to kiss her. Clara jerked back and slapped his hand away.

"Go away Raoul! I can never marry you!"

Renard flinched upon hearing the shriek, and then frowned.

"Raoul? Who is-" She kicked his shin, and before he even had time to crumble over in pain she rammed the door shut and raced back upstairs.

* * *

It took the rest of the day for Clara to regain her composure. She spent it all away from Mr. Banning, for she only cared for him at night. She tended to the boring duties of a proper Victorian wife, taking care of everything that went on in the house from cleaning to food.

And when it was time for her to meet her father, she banished her unhappy thoughts before entering the master bedroom.

And unsurprisingly, she found him a grinning widely like a man on his wedding day.

"Wendy! Wendy my darling!" He outstretched his arms, asking for an embrace.

She smiled, before going over and leaning down, allowing the older gentleman to wrap his frail arms around her.

"Good evening. How was your day?"

"Boring without you! But come now Wendy, I keep telling you to call me Peter!" He withdrew, his eyes sparkling. "After all, we're to be husband and wife in July!"

Clara smiled her smile. It was the same smile that used to light up all of her features. But now, it looked much different, for the smile only stayed on her lips and did not reach elsewhere. As she studied her father's face, the unsettling look of melancholy in her eyes only grew.

Peter was very, very, very old now, much older than he used to be before. His hair was completely white, and an endless amount of wrinkles marred his once youthful face. His cheeks and the area under his eyes were very dark and sunken in, looking almost similar to a starving soldier forever haunted by gruesome images of death that could never be erased.

But despite his years showing in his weathered countenance, Peter also was much younger than he used to be.

He smiled all the time now, and sung about flying and fairies like a star-struck lover. He whispered about the wonderful possibilities of the future, and the endless amount of adventures he had left to go on, as well as the plethora of happy thoughts that he and Wendy would create together.

Or rather, him and Clara.

The doctor had stated that his madness was only going to worsen, and there was no cure for his deteriorating brain. He had explained that the illness was most likely caused by Mr. Banning's past of heavy drinking. There were also problems with his liver, which was now starting to shut down at a rapid pace.

For seven years now, Mr. Banning had remained sober. Clara had made sure of that by throwing out every drink she could find, and ordering her servants to never allow even a single penny to fall into Mr. Banning's fingers.

It had been extremely difficult for the first two years, for he would rant and rave and hurt himself and those around him with his outbursts. The worst time had been when he had thrown a glass vase at her and barely missed hitting her face square-on. But eventually, his temper tantrums eased, and his mind regressed backwards.

Back to who he once was.

"Oh Wendy, what do you think about the name Michael? If we have a boy that is." He stared so longingly as she drew open all the curtains and windows.

"But that's my younger brother's name Peter."

"I know. But don't you love the name Michael? It's so properly British! I think it's quite a suitable name for a young boy."

The woman forced a laugh, as she turned back around and offered another strained smile to Mr. Banning.

"Yes, I think it's a lovely name as well."

"Pft. You don't like it." Peter leaned back on his pillows, the look of warmth still softening his features. "What name do you like? For a boy that is."

She averted her gaze, and fixed her eyes on the mirror sitting on top of the dresser. Of course, she found her own reflection staring back, but it wasn't the same reflection from years ago.

She was no longer the young girl anymore, no. She had the long, slim face of a woman. A mature woman, at that. Thirty-five and still unmarried. Everyone had assumed it was due to her taking care of her now crippled father, but it was in fact for a very different reason.

"Wendy? What name would you like?" His voice was quite distant and felt empty in her ears.

Clara was quiet for a small moment, before she spoke up again.

"James." She met Peter's green gaze. "I think James is a wonderful name."

Peter grinned.

"Oh yes! Not a bad name at all. You're good at this Wendy!"

"Why don't you want a girl? Do you not like little girls Peter?" The bitterness lining her words was hard to miss.

"Don't be cross now. Of course I want a girl! After all, one girl is worth more than ten boys."

"Oh really?" She suppressed a wry laugh and a sneer.

"Of course! If we had a daughter, I'd treasure her for as long as I'd live."

She had to turn her head away, so she didn't have to see the expression of bliss on his face.

"We'll live happily ever after Wendy. You, me, and our precious little bundle of joy."

"We are grown-ups Peter. This is the real world, and there are no happily ever after's here. What if I were to die Peter? What would you do?" She couldn't control the trembling behind her words, nor the break in her voice.

"What would you do, if something went horribly, horribly wrong? You'd be so heart-broken... And then you'd ruin yourself and never be truly happy again! And then you might get so terribly old and sick and then-"

Mr. Banning suddenly pulled Clara into his arms, and he began shushing her while gently rubbing her back.

"It's alright darling, don't panic like this."

Clara burst into tears, but refrained from holding Mr. Banning too tightly, afraid she would hurt his frail form.

The name Wendy had grown so hollow in her ears. There was no longer a meaning or sentiment attached to the name. It no longer conjured up the images of a blue-eyed angel or a faint face from an old painting. It was now just a jumble of words, meaningless sounds and syllables uttered constantly.

"Don't be sad. I'm scared too Wendy… But we have to hold onto happy thoughts, remember? You were the one who always told me that."

The woman tried her best to calm herself by taking in broken breaths. And the bed-ridden old man continued trying to pacify her, continuing to murmur sweet nothings and pat her back. And once she was calm enough to hear other things other than her own snivels, Peter spoke up again.

"You know Wendy...I have a perfect name if we have a daughter."

She sat up, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

"And what would that be?"

"Clara."

* * *

Mr. Banning easily was lulled to sleep after supper, and when he finally retired for the night so did the rest of the household.

Sighing, Clara slipped into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. And as she leaned onto the frame for support, she did not move from her standing position for a little while as she always did.

Normally, in this rare alone time full of silence, Miss. Banning would throw herself onto her bed and began sobbing until she passed out. But she did not cry more, because she had already done plenty of crying earlier while with Mr. Banning and now her eyes had dried out.

What on earth was wrong with her?

She shut her eyes. She always had a great measure of self-control when around her father, and the last time she had ever allowed herself to break down in front of him was years ago when she was first told by the doctor of his condition, which was also the first time Peter had mistaken her for Wendy.

How she had screamed and begged at him to remember her... How often she had pleaded and begged for him to call her Clara. But his brain had somehow completely erased all memory of her existence, and she had now been permanently been replaced by Wendy once and for all. And every time she lashed out, the poor old man grew extremely upset and cried as well just like a little boy.

And so, Clara never once raised her voice again at her father, for it frightened and confused him quite terribly.

Shaking away unwelcome memories, she forced herself away from the door and trudged over to the windows. She stared up at the blank sky, and she saw that there were no stars in that particular night.

Her gaze flicked down below, sweeping across the empty garden filled with dead roses. And after a few moments, Clara's eyes narrowed as there was movement from the bushes. She leaned forward, eyebrows furrowing together as she focused.

There! There was a rather large shadow, and Clara swore it moved. Was it a bleary silhouette of a man? Jolting up, Clara's eyes widened as she stared harder at the spot with the moving outline.

The spot where she had first met a certain blue-eyed man.

Every part of her jolted to life. Her heart beat faster and a cry of joy threatened to spill from her lips. Wasting no time, she flew out of her room and raced down the stairs, not caring if her loud stomps jolted the entire neighborhood awake. Bursting through the back doors, she stopped only to catch her breath and quickly scan her new surroundings.

The garden was quiet, the only sound filling it being the intruder's heavy pants for air.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Hazy white ghosts of the woman's breath swirled out of existence as quickly as they came to be.

Only the slight rustle of the trees answered her call.

"Come out from where you hide." She searched the vicinity once again, but found nothing even vaguely resembling the form she was seeking. "Please."

Slowly, she inched her way towards the tree she had not visited since many years ago.

"Captain?" After waiting a few seconds, she crept up closer, before jumping around to the other side.

And a horrifyingly painful blow of disappointment came when she saw no one was there. But she still stared. Stared at the empty area of grass, where she had desperately hoped to see a pair of black boots standing in.

A sudden wave of cold washed over her being, and she finally noticed that it had begun to snow. Casting her mournful eyes upwards, she shivered as she still did not see the second star.

 _Had everything truly been a dream?_

But if everything really was just a figment of her imagination, then why did she still feel like something was terribly wrong? Why did it feel as if the life she was living right now was the dream?

Or rather... A nightmare.

If Clara had the choice, she would wake up from this one and go back to the other one. The other one filled with nothing but miles and miles of the sky and sea intertwined as one. The other dream of a marvelous island with lurking danger and magnificence. It was more than just the allure of adventure in which she had been bewitched by. There was so much unexplored areas of the land, so much buried secrets she had not been able to uncover at the time. In the short time of her being inside the dream, she had been enchanted by the constant trees and sun that enveloped her in its embrace. The beauty of the lagoon was something she had grown addicted to, and the memory of the thrill of danger was something she would always crave for as long as she lived.

But most importantly, there was an insatiable longing to see a pair of very blue eyes. The ones that always haunted her daydreams and the ones she thought about at night. The ones she was most likely unable to ever see again.

She grit her teeth and clenched her fists. Glaring up at the heavens, she angrily searched for the blasted second star once again. But all she could see was the delicate flakes of snow drifting down from gray clouds.

"Hook! You bad bad man!" Her voice boomed across the entire neighborhood, and despite knowing her actions would be the topic of gossip the next morning she did not care.

He had simply chucked her back! After all they had been through, he had simply decided that he had enough of her and returned her "home" as if she was an unwanted pet.

But then she remembered the terrible state she had been in ten years before… And how she had been bedridden for months.

And an image of Mr. Banning flashed across her mind.

Every part of her slumped, and her expression grew slack.

No.

A tiny voice buried deep down whispered to her the truth. She did not have to meet him to know that there had been another good reason. As much as she wanted to hate him, loathe him… She could not. After all… She knew better. She had always known that deep down, he cared more for her than he would ever admit.

She thought back to all the times he had stolen glimpses of her or shamelessly stared when he thought she wasn't looking. She recounted how he had always lurked somewhere nearby, just in case she got herself into trouble. And of course, all the times he had endangered himself to find her, no matter how lost she had been.

But she knew this time he would not return.

* * *

 _Dearest Readers,_

 _I hope that this chapter didn't feel like just a large information-dump. It kind've was, but I do hope that there was more showing rather than telling. I know there are times in which telling is necessary, but I did try to minimize the extent in which I blatantly just recounted what exactly had happened in the frame of ten years._

 _But yes, we are nearing the end of this very experimental story haha. I'm surprisingly quite attached to it despite it being a fanfiction, and I hope that I did alright for it was my first actual romance romance a little. Mostly angst but hopefully it didn't seem to terribly emo lol. I tried to keep the vibe of the original book, and I think I rather like writing in the third person point of view._

 _Usual special affections to **MusicalsandMordreds** , **theusualguest** , and **VelvetGoldi e,** and a new reviewer by the name **The-100th-Llama** (nice name btw)_

 _-StrangelySilentSoul_


	28. Chapter 28

**Flowers**

 _Mr. Banning has passed away._

 _It had been terrible shock to everyone, but at the same time it was something everyone had been expecting for a long time. In the morning, Miss Banning had discovered her aged father had died peacefully in his sleep. Much to the relief to everyone, he had not been in terrible suffering before he was gone._

 _Authorities have confirmed that within three days, they are required by law to confiscate all property under Mr. Banning's name. And once again, the rumors surrounding the old banker's death turned out to be true as well: he had been in serious debt. By leaving behind nothing for his one and only successor, his daughter Miss. Clara Wendy Banning, no is certain of what is to become of her._

Refusing to read any more of the article, the woman crumbled up the morning paper before chucking it off of the desk. She glanced outside, where a soft storm of snow had begun to emerge. Tiny flakes of white flew about, and already a thin layer of ice blanketed every surface.

It had been hours since the funeral, and Miss. Banning had not yet changed. And already she could see the headlines for the next morning's paper: "Clara Banning Cast Out into the Streets."

A knock at the door interrupted the string of unwelcome thoughts. Clara stood and straightened her posture.

"Come in."

Baron entered, and she almost sighed in relief. Rushing over to his side, she mustered up the best smile she could.

"Good evening Baron. Did you need something?"

The mountain of the man held out a package in his large mitts.

"Mr. Darling sent you something."

Upon hearing news of her uncle, a small spike of happiness shot through her being. She immediately took the small box from Baron's hands and began to rip it open as if it was Christmas. And inside, she found something quite precious indeed.

It was an old teddy bear.

One button eye was missing, and various uneven stitching and patches covered most of the small toy's weathered and ragged body. It was a dark shade of gray in some areas rather than brown, and the once soft fur was now rough and matted.

And at the bottom was a letter.

She smiled for the first time that day, before holding her new prized possession close to her chest while picking up the small note.

 _My Favorite Niece,_

 _I am terribly sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral. My health is also quite unwell, but do not worry. It's nothing but a small cold._

 _As much as I long to hold you in my arms and comfort you, I cannot at this moment. It pains me to imagine how much pain you must be in right now, and I just know that you are suffering as much as you did when Wendy died._

 _But let's move on from unhappy topics. I am sure you've already had enough of them! I wanted to bestow upon you my most cherished piece of my childhood to you. I know that you will love and take care of Sir Gavin Maxwell Francis De Bois even more than I have, and I can now rest well now that he is in good hands. As you can tell, my children went on their fair share of adventures with the poor old thing, and this was my last attempt on trying to save what was left of him._

 _My dear, please do not ever lose hope. I know Wendy would be proud of the strong woman you have become today, and I do hope that the spark of adventure will never die inside of you. I just wanted to remind you that there is always a special place for you inside my heart, and that I will always adore you no matter what._

 _If you need a place to stay, come to my house. But I know that you won't need to, for you are a very strong woman who can stand on her own._

 _Your Dastardly Handsome Uncle,_

 _Michael._

 _-P.S. Don't judge the old bear just from its appearance. There is more to it that meets the eyes. After all, it is what's on the inside that matters._

Clara couldn't help the small smile from spilling over across her lips over the peculiar letter, and Baron couldn't help but notice the old twinkle return in her eyes once again. She met his gaze while holding the bear and letter close to her chest.

"Thank you Baron. I truly mean it."

Before the big man could respond, another sharp knock erupted at the door. Both turned their heads to find none other than an unwanted reporter standing there.

"Miss. Banning." He grinned his wolfish smile, before carefully stalking over to the woman. His eyes betrayed the obscene thoughts running through his mind.

"Renard." Clara crinkled a nose, before narrowing her eyes and taking a step back. "I don't recall inviting you here."

"Well it is a gentleman's duty to come to a grieving woman in need." He bowed, and that was when the woman noticed he hid something behind his back. But before she could inquire him of the matter, the reporter snapped at Baron with narrowed eyes.

"Could you please leave? I have some private matters I'd like to discuss with Miss. Banning."

Clara's mouth flew open, but she had no time to express her indignation, for the large man only bowed before leaving. And as he did, the woman's face flushed to a deep crimson as her cheeks and chest puffed up with hot air. Before she could explode into a tirade of rants and raves, Renard thrust out a small bouquet of flowers. She glanced down, and almost immediately her unpleasant facial expression melted away. And Renard smirked.

"These are your favorite, are they not?" He carefully studied every part of her face.

They were forget-me-nots.

"How did you know?" Her voice threatened to crack from the weight of her hidden emotions. Clara's initial thought of smacking it out of his hand disappeared from her mind. Her features softened, and the hazy look of longing returned in her eyes.

Renard narrowed his eyes upon seeing the change in her demeanor, and his suspicions were confirmed.

She reached out to graze a fingertip on one of the petals. But right before she could reach one, Renard suddenly withdrew his arm. Once Miss. Banning met his gaze, she found a strained smile stretched across the man's lips.

"Tell me... Have you ever received a bouquet before?"

She blinked, her focus wandering back to the delicate flowers he withheld from her reach.

"I have not."

"Do not lie."

She took a step back, the harshness in his tone causing every part of her to stiffen once again.

"Miss. Banning... A lovely woman like yourself must have received at least one! You cannot fool me." Slipping on a charming grin, he advanced towards her. And she backed away, now warily eyeing the man up and down.

"Why have you come here?" She ran into her desk, and the man placed both arms on both sides. Completely trapping her.

"I know you are in love with someone else. That is why you haven't married... Is it not?"

She averted her gaze, and couldn't help the color rising to her cheeks. The woman was too consumed by the memory of the man he spoke of to question how on earth the reporter knew. And Renard threw the bouquet behind him, allowing it to limply fall to the ground into a messy heap.

"Forget him. It would be easier, would it not?"

She closed her eyes. She _had_ tried forgetting him, many times again and again.

Seeing the effect his words had on her, he continued.

"You can pretend that I am he... I do not care." He murmured the treacherous words right into her ear, and she could only listen. "You always seemed to prefer fantasy anyway. Am I correct?"

She nodded just the slightest. And because her eyes remained closed, she did not see the sinister smile that slipped up on Renard's lips.

"I love you."

And she really did imagine that it was another in Renard's place. And for a moment, her heart skipped a beat and her breathing hitched.

"I want to be with you and only you. There is no other for me."

She replayed the words in the voice of another. Her eyes stung and she had to bite down on her tongue to suppress a tiny sob.

"Marry me."

But when she opened her eyes, she did not find blue ones looking back at her.

And that shattered the short-lived illusion.

"Have you changed your mind my dear?" He smirked while tracing a finger down the curve of her cheek. "My... Women are so fickle. All it takes is a little bit of flowers and flattery to turn them into good little puppies..."

A hot wave of loathing ignited her being when he snuck a glance at her chest. She glared, and shoved the man away with all her might. She stumbled but did not fall, and his eyes narrowed with irritation. And she simply whirled away on her heel and held her head high.

"My answer from a few days ago remains the same. I will not marry you. Thank you for your generous offer, but I adamantly decline. Have a good night." Before she could storm off, a strong hand gripped her wrist. Grunting, Clara struggled against Renard, but he was much stronger and forced her to face him once again.

"We are to be wed in three days. I have prepared everything, and I will come for you."

"Nonsense! Absolute nonsense! That will not happen!" She writhed and wriggled in his arms, pushing and pulling and doing anything she could to try and wring herself away. "I hate you! I absolutely hate you!"

He grabbed her face, his nails digging into her skin. She yelped, but ceased her struggle for freedom and met his eyes. They were dark, and his entire face was shadowed with silent rage.

"Miss. Banning."

His hot breath was sour and nauseated her senses. But she did not move, for he squeezed her tighter in his fist. And she yelped in pain.

"You have two choices. Marrying me, or staying inside a mental asylum until you do."

Clara's eyes widened and every part of her grew heavy with dread.

"I will see you in three days. Have a good night."

He released her, and she slumped to the ground. And he left, leaving her alone and shivering next to the heap of fallen flowers. Staring at the delicate petals, Clara finally allowed herself to weep bitterly.

 _"Always think happy thoughts Wendy. We live too short to dwell on unhappy ones... Don't you think?"_

She could almost see the crinkles in Mr. Banning's ancient face right in front of her. Oh how his ivory eyes did light up... And of course his smile that lit up everything about his being. And so, Miss. Banning mustered up every ounce of strength she had left to stand on her feet once again. Still shaken by her earlier encounter with the reporter, Clara halfheartedly tried conjuring up a happy thought. And when she failed, she reached for the bouquet.

 _"We must go rescue the poor orphans Wendy! We are the only ones who can help!"_

Lashes fluttering shut, she inhaled the sweet fragrance of the flowers. And the aroma drowned out her recent unhappy memories, and replaced them with unforgotten dreams.

Vivid visions of glittering lagoons and an endless sea of dazzling indigo flashed before her mind. She could practically hear the sloshing of the wild waves and the faint lullabies of sirens. The glint of silver metal and a dark coat.

Opening her eyes to the real world once again, her attention wandered back to the forget-me-nots. And in them, she saw faint traces of piercing eyes. She could clearly hear the rise and fall of his baritone voice as he barked an order, and she could clearly picture the way he would frown when she failed to complete a chore. But of course, he wasn't ever sincerely cross with her.

She cast her sorrowful stare out to the window.

As her gaze swept over the scenery below, it stopped when they reached the garden. And another fresh layer of tears glossed over her eyes once again when a happy memory tainted with gray returned to her.

 _"Girl, why are you crying?"_

Her hand unknowingly pressed itself against the icy glass, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps to blossom on her skin. As she stared at her own reflection, the faint image of his came into fruition. She could see every detail, from the way the corners of his lips turned downwards and his messy stubble. Reaching out her hand, she tried to touch him but her fingers only came into contact with more glass.

Bitterness crept over her being, and for moment all she saw was searing red flash across her vision. A howl of frustration and despair rang across the air, and Clara realized it was her own voice. She blinked when she realized that her hand had moved on its own and punched through the window.

Leaving a jagged hole, and shards of broken glass littered at her feet.


	29. Chapter 29

**In**

It had been three days since the funeral.

Miss. Clara had taken it upon herself to keep everything in Mr. Banning's room exactly the way it had been, and not change a single thing. She had insisted on keeping his bed unmade as the day he had been found, and she simply refused to have any of his items taken away until the day the house was to be evicted. And of course, the dreaded date had already arrived.

Although she knew she did not have much time before Renard would come for her, she had spent all she had on some hard liquor. Just like her father had done, she sat at the office desk while downing another glass.

The woman was still dressed in her nightgown, and her wild hair tumbled down to her waist in a nest of tangled waves. Her right hand had been wrapped in bandages, for her knuckles had been badly injured from the window incident. She stared blankly ahead of her, not thinking about anything in particular and not having the desire to. The state of nothingness she resided in was completely fine with her, and she had been reduced to such a level through the help of several drinks.

Which she should not have had in the first place.

Baron walked in, and his eyes saddened upon seeing the same sight for three days before him. The room was still as he remembered it to be when they first discovered Mr. Banning. Most of the servants had left already to their new jobs, and had simply abandoned the young ginger without offering any kind words of consolation. Since the grim ceremony, she hadn't left the room. And she slept on the floors of the master bedroom. Despite Baron bringing in meals, she refused to eat and often the food remained untouched.

"Miss. Clara?" He observed the hand he had patched up for her. The one which she had used to break the window. His deep voice jolted Clara back to the real world. And she bolted upright into a sitting position.

"Bruce?"

"Baron."

Squinting, she slowly rose and had to grip the table for balance.

"Baron?" She blinked, and shook her head. "Oh pardon me... I'm so sorry Baron."

The large man walked over.

"I've come to say goodbye."

Clara felt a sting similar to a slap.

"Oh." The pit of her stomach clenched, and she turned away to look out at one of the windows.

"Miss. Clara." She looked up. And she was taken aback by the warmth coming from the mountain man's eyes.

"If you need help, please contact me." He left a small note with scrawled handwriting next to the half-empty bottle of vodka. "I have to go now. I have found another job. But if you need a place to stay or you just want a meal, my wife and I are more than happy to help. You have treated me kindly and paid me enough to support my family for the past ten years, and it's the least I can do for you."

She was too stunned to speak. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. And so she closed it again while bowing her head. Her cheeks burned upon knowing what she must look like, without having to look into a mirror.

"Goodbye Miss. Banning. I hope everything will work out for you. Please do contact me if something is wrong."

After escorting Baron to the door, Miss. Banning returned to her bedroom with stinging eyes.

She continued to rapidly blink while standing as tall as she could. Holding up her head, she forced herself to remain calm. And then she spotted the old bear she had received in the mail. Sir Gavin Maxwell Francis De Bois sat upon her desk beside the half empty bottles of vodka, staring at her expectantly as always. Now Clara was aware that he was but a mere toy, but she could not help but feel the sense that he wanted her to come over to him, and pick him up.

And despite feeling silly and childish, she followed her instinct and did just that.

She gathered her new prized possession in her arms, while picking up her uncle's note from the day before and rereading it. A small smile ghosted the corners of her lips, but it did not fully bloom. After skimming over Uncle Michael's comical yet touching words once again, she alternated between studying his scrawled handwriting and the teddy.

It was a very ragged little thing, and had she just stumbled upon it by chance she might have thrown it away.

 _-P.S. Don't judge the old bear just from its appearance. There is more to it that meets the eyes. After all, it is what's on the inside that matters._

Clara frowned, and glanced down at the old doll once again. It's little black eyes stared back, as if it was urging her on to discover a secret.

 _What's on the inside._

She flipped the bear over in her palms, so that it's back faced towards her. And on the back of the toy, she found a subtle slit that had been loosely sewn shut.

Inside. In.

The stitching was uneven, and there wasn't a knot. Carefully, Clara used her fingers to pry apart one of the bigger gaps. And the hole opened up even more with ease.

There were no knots! The thread used to "sew" up the bear had not been secured!

Heart beating, she held her breath as she opened the doll up all the way like an excited child would with their birthday present. Amongst the feeble amounts of white stuffing, there was a tiny bottle. Gasping, Clara pulled it out. Inside of the small vial was a small dose of pixie dust. It glittered and shined like stars, and a faint, golden glow surrounded each precious speck that whispered of a wonderful promise.

After studying the magical contents of the bottle for a few moments, Clara noticed the small note which was also tucked away inside the bear. And as she tucked Sir Gavin Maxwell Francis De Bois under her arm, she tenderly unfolded the ancient thin paper, and read the all-too-familiar cursive handwriting beautifully scrawled all across.

 _My Lovely Daughter,_

 _There is a wonderful secret that I have not told you._

 _My stories of Neverland that you've grown up reading are actually not fabrications: they are real events. Your father, our Peter, is the flying boy who didn't want to grow up._ _But sadly, he has forgotten how to fly. And no matter how much I remind him on how or who he is, he never believes me. He has changed, but I still love him all the same. But I cannot help but feel that it is partially my fault... After all, I was the one who had made him leave Neverland in the first place._

 _I don't know if I can be there for you when growing up. The doctors have told me that it is possible that neither you and I will survive. But I know deep down in my heart that you will make it out alright. Although you have not been born yet, I know that you will become a beautiful woman with a brilliant mind. I just know it! I refuse to believe otherwise._ _Even the darkest nights have a flicker of a fire, and it is your job to chase after it and refuse to surrender. Dreams do come true, if only we wish hard enough. You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it._

 _And I'll tell you a secret: I have never forgotten how to fly. And although I myself will never fly again, I know that one day you will. I asked my brother, Michael, to give this letter to you when the time was right. Take the fairy dust, and sprinkle it over yourself. And after you do, I want you to think of the things that make you the happiest!_

 _So go to where dreams are born and time is never planned. Just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land. But remember this: the moment where you doubt you can fly, you cease forever to do it._ _I love you my dear Clara. Life will be hard and unfair, and at times you will lose your happy thought. But most lost things can always be found again if you look hard enough. Don't ever let the dark frighten you. Sometimes the things that are unknown, the things that are unseen make the best adventures._

 _Your Mother,_

 _Wendy_

Despite the fresh tears that rolled down her cheeks, the same glow of joy lit up the features of Miss. Clara's face. A genuine smile graced her lips for the first time in three days, and for that moment the hint of the young girl she used to be glittered inside her eyes.

Unknowingly, she had allowed the bear to fall to the ground. The woman raised the precious bottle of fairy dust to her eyes once more. There was only enough for one person, and only enough for one try.

 _"Happy thoughts Wendy, happy thoughts!"_ The ghost of Mr. Banning's laugh rang across her mind.

Before she had a chance to begin thinking, a large bang echoed across the room. Clara flinched and looked back, and she could hear the sound of stomping boots from downstairs.

Every part of her froze.

"Miss Banning!" Renard's voice boomed across the entire house.

Hot panic erupted through Clara's being.

"Miss. Banning! I am here with some men. Would you like to come down yourself, or must we have to drag you?" The sound of feet stomping up the stairs.

She sprinted over to the balcony. And with each step, her heart began to leapt about in a frantic rhythm like a caged bird. The woman burst through the doors. The woman gasped as she was slapped by the full force of the unforgiving cold. Momentarily jerking back upon feeling bare toes sinking into virgin snow, Clara grit her teeth and pummeled herself to step out into the icy winter air.

But the sound of thunderous footsteps from the intruders could still be heard.

"Happy thoughts! Happy thoughts! Happy thoughts!" She chanted urgently, but her brain failed her. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused very, very hard. But her feet remained grounded. She tried jumping up and down, but of course nothing happened.

She conjured up the memory of her father's smile, for it occasionally had brightened her days. But thinking of Peter only made her remember what was not and what could have been, and all memories which involved him were tainted with guilt and sorrow.

And so, Clara banished all thoughts of Mr. Banning from her mind.

"Miss Banning!"

Clara squeezed her eyes shut, and her mind landed on the memory of another man. But of course, the immediate reaction upon doing so was anger, confusion and betrayal.

The strain to piece together a happy thought had the exact opposite effect! All unhappy memories rushed back like agitated waves. Treacherous thoughts whispered of how she would always remain lost and alone. All the ugly feelings that had coiled up within her unraveled into a full storm, and the inner turmoil that she suffered from made all happy thoughts near to impossible.

Sweating and heart racing, the woman began to twitch violently like the waves of a stormy sea.

And in her moment of panic, she searched the skies, but did not find the two stars which she had been hoping to see. Dejected, she turned away. Every part of her slumped, and for a moment she considered just going back inside to face the nearing Renard and his men, but that was when she finally saw it.

A single rose.

Everything froze. Time stopped as the woman's eyes swept across the crimson petals, and the tiny snowflakes adorning the tiny flower. It had not yet fully bloomed, but the delicate bud whispered of the promise that it would. Unlike her past memories, it gently sang a silent song of the possibility of what it was to _be_ , not of it what could have been or what _was_.

The possibility of it to bloom into something more.

As faint sunlight began emerging from the distance, the faint layer of frost that had settled on the leaves glittered just like the fairy dust Clara still held in her hand. She looked back, and saw the small bear lying inside the room. It looked straight at her, it's black button eyes almost urging her to go on. It almost assured her of all her doubts of falling.

 _What do you want?_

It almost seemed to ask her, and she silently answered in return. After all, she had always wanted the same thing for the longest time. She glanced back at the small, red bud, and remembered all that she had lost in the past decade.

"Check the bedroom!" Renard's muffled voice drew closer as did the stomps. Footsteps finally began to tromp up the stairs.

 _But most lost things can always be found again if you look hard enough._

Delicate specks of white drifted down from above, and for a moment Clara mistook them for dancing fairies. Casting her eyes upwards, waves of clarity washed across Clara's being. She grew calm, and the fog of fear that had clouded her vision from before melted away. As she gazed at the sky once again, she finally saw the two stars in their rightful place.

Closing her eyes, Clara smiled a real smile for the first time in a very long time. A fuzzy feeling filled her insides and inflated her with warmth. And with each breath she took, every part of her being grew lighter than before at the prospect of seeing a pair of blue eyes once again.

She opened the bottle and poured all of its contents over herself.

And when Renard and his men finally reached the master bedroom, they found that no one and nothing was there.

Nothing but a lone bear, looking out at the open balcony gazing out into the endless sea of lavender.


	30. Chapter 30

_I thank each and every one of you for all of your support, and I hope that everyone can find even just one happy thought to cling onto when times get dark. -StrangelySilentSoul._

* * *

 **December**

It was a land frozen both by ice and time, and nothing yet everything about the world had changed.

Since the death of Tiger Lily, Ashkii had been elected as the new chief for the Piccanines Indians. The boy had stayed with pirates for several months before the natives had come for him, and in that short time the young boy had developed a strong bond with Mr. Smee and most of the crew. When he returned to his tribe and rose to power, a shaky alliance had been formed between the old enemies. The sailors would offer protection from the other pirates, and both sides agreed to trade supplies to survive the harsh and unforgiving weather.

The mermaids and fairies had disappeared into hidden shadows, waiting to emerge when the sun returned once more. Night had permanently fallen over Neverland, and everything the moon touched turned into a sorrowful shade of blue. The ocean had completely frozen over, rendering the infamous Jolly Roger ship stranded in the midst of jagged icebergs and stubborn glaciers. A permanent winter had begun its reign, and everything the cold touched glittered with frost. And strangely enough, the new state of the world matched the dark melancholy which had fallen over a certain pirate.

And at that very moment, he was the lone figure out on the deck.

Disheveled and distraught, he emptied what was left of his mug before gazing out into the still scenery before him. Like everything else, he too had changed. Of course, his temper had remained. The occasional violent outburst was what kept his men in check, and everyone knew not to displease the tyrant of a captain if they wanted to keep their necks. But no one could deny, that he was no longer the man he once was.

No one could deny that the captain was much more quiet than he used to be, and surprisingly much more tolerant than before. Having more patience wasn't a bad thing in itself, but to the crew which had endured all sorts of violent punishments from the man found it to be rather unsettling.

After all, the man was the most terrifying when polite. And so, everyone knew to exercise even more caution around him than before.

Everyone else had already retired for the night, but like so many nights... Sleep, had eluded the captain. Or rather, he was trying to escape from it. After all, sleeping led to dreaming, and all the captain ever dreamt of for the past ten years was of a certain ginger. It did not matter whether he was awake or asleep, for his mind had a habit of always wandering back to the thought of her. He was often plagued with wishes of what could have been and the reality of what was not.

The man was too preoccupied in wallowing in his own self-pity to notice a flying figure gliding across the sky. A shadow above him descended from behind. A soft thud resonated across the air. The man turned around, and found the very subject of his thoughts standing a few feet from him.

Green eyes locked with blue.

Just as he remembered, her wild hair was loose and long. Stray strands of red splayed around her head, conjuring up the image of a flame. But there was a new, permanent sadness which darkened her once bright eyes. But despite that being so, he could still sense the faint flicker of the wild spirit he knew she still was.

He slowly staggered over like a moth drawn to light. And with each swaying step he took, the woman's pulse picked up more speed. And soon, he was so close she could feel every breath he took.

"Girl, why are you crying?"

Quickly, Clara wiped away the tears she had not known had begun to fall. And she couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Clearing her throat and straightening herself, she answered.

"I think the real question is, why would I not be crying? I've suffered quite a bit this past decade. But just in case you haven't noticed..." She gestured down at herself. "I am now quite too old to still be considered a child."

A grin slipped up to his lips without his permission.

"Yes indeed..." A dry laugh. "I apologize for the mistake, my dear lady."

"I would be willing to forgive you, but you must do something for me first." She offered him a small smile, before carefully stepping closer.

"Oh? And what is required of me to receive your mercy?" He kept still, fearing that if he moved, she would disappear like she always did. And Clara in turn drew close to him, so that they were only mere inches away once again.

"I think you know very well what you must do." Her eyes flicked down to his lips for a brief moment, before she slowly turned her face up, and waited.

Hook sighed, breaking away his gaze from the woman.

"Oh how cruel... I don't know whether to laugh or cry."

"Why?"

James held his breath, and felt that familiar pang of false hope that came before crippling disappointment. It was as if he was talking to the real one!

"When I wake up you will be gone, for at the moment I am asleep. You are just a dream." He let out a wry snicker. "Dear heavens… It's finally happened, I've gone completely mad! Talking to hallucinations..."

Before he could lose his composure, the captain whirled around on his heel and marched away without glancing back. And the woman blinked, before she clenched her jaw and fist before silently stalking after him.

He made it to the quarter deck close to his cabin, and once he did he tightly clutched onto the railing while glaring out at the sea.

How unforgiving his brain was, playing the same terrible tricks on him time and time again! He had seen her there on so many nights. It was always the same! She would appear before him out of nowhere, and right before he could reach out and touch her she'd simply vanish into thin air. And he would find himself staring out into a space of nothing, or sitting up in his own bed surrounded by darkness.

Still alone and still without her.

Before he could slam his valid hand into the poor, abused railing, the figment appeared beside him once again. He stiffened as she settled in the open spot next to him, leaning against the banister just like him.

"How rude of you. You abandoned me." She gazed up at the full moon. "Just like ten years ago."

Hook growled, his irritation spiking to a higher level.

"I have not. And why must you torment me in this way?" He whipped around to face her, and she didn't bat an eyelash upon seeing the harshness which crept up on his features. "Why must you do this to be every night? Don't you ever get tired of this same, boring game of cat and mouse?"

She frowned, but did not reply. A silent storm had already begun to simmer, and she was barely able to keep it from boiling over.

"Please, I beg of you. For just one night, allow me some peace and leave me be."

"Why are you unwilling to speak with me?"

"Because you are not real, my dear." And without much thought, he turned around. But before he could walk very far, the woman then spoke up again in a voice that could awaken all of Neverland.

"James Hook! Don't you dare walk away!"

He flinched, and stopped right where he was.

"You shall not dismiss me once again! I forbid it! Turn around and face me right this instant!"

He did just that.

Before he could even process what was happening, she raised her arm and swung it at full force. The loud slap echoed across the air, and almost immediately Hook was hit with the sting of it. He flinched, and it was as if he had been jolted out of sleep.

"Does that not feel quite real to you captain?"

He raised his valid hand to where she had struck, before meeting her glare. His eyes were wide and fully focused, and the earlier look of hazy unfocus had completely vanished.

"Have I successfully convinced you?" He did not miss the slight accent of reproach lining her words. Baffled by the situation, all Hook did was blink. Like many times before, the woman had managed to render him completely speechless.

And with his now impeccably clear mind, he finally noticed in just what state of utter dishevelment she was in. She smelled as if she had been drinking for days, and he finally noticed just how wrinkled her nightgown was. He noticed her bandaged hand, as well as the small stains of red which had begun to seep out at the palm.

Her expression had completely shriveled up, and it was evident that all the bitterness she had locked away for years seeped out at once. And Hook stared down at her turbulent eyes marred with malice and overflowing with tears. And just seeing the look was enough for him to understand all the suffering that lurked behind her silence.

"Clara..."

And upon hearing the name she had not heard in years, she gave up trying to contain her inner turmoil. She began to weep and sob, and before her legs could give out from under her the captain was able to catch her.

She desperately clung to him for balance and did not let go. She buried herself into his form, and allowed herself to cry and cry and cry. Each wail and tear shed sent new waves of guilt over the captain, for he knew that he had been the main cause of her pain. And so he just stayed silent, careful not to squeeze her too tightly and occasionally running his hands through her tangled, dirty hair. He did not mind how strongly she smelled of alochol, nor how she was ruining his shirt.

But eventually, she stopped. And gradually, she calmed to the point in which she was able to formulate an articulate sentence once again. Sniffling, she accepted the handkerchief the captain offered and cleaned herself up.

"Oh don't look at me, I'm such a horrible mess." She couldn't help but let out a wry laugh, but Hook's face remained rather unreadable. The woman finally noticed how silent the man had been the entire time, and she tensed from the small spike of anxiety from the lack of reaction.

"Well." She cleared her throat. "Aren't you going to say something?"

Placing his valid hand on her cheek, he prevented her from looking away. An unconsciously, the woman found herself leaning into the man's touch.

"If I apologize, would you still be willing to forgive me?." His voice was a low murmur, meant for only her to hear. When his gaze flickered down to her lips, Clara's heart began racing and her cheeks flushed.

"If you do it properly."

He traced a finger across the hidden kiss which was still there after all these years. Giving into his impulses, he allowed himself to move closer, yet she did not pull away. Testing the limits even more, he tilted her face slightly upwards, and still she did not resist. He continued learning in, until his lips hovered over hers at a mere breaths distance away. For a brief moment, he paused, giving her one last chance to retreat. But she closed her eyes and was the one to finally close the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he in turn held her by the waist.

She was just as soft as he had imagined her to be, and rather cold from the night air. And through the kiss, he communicated his genuine apology, and she accepted. And through it, the years spent apart vanished with the space between them. For a moment, all the hurt and betrayal was forgotten, and all wrongs pardoned.

But after a while of desperately holding onto the other, he was the first loosen his hold and pull away. The woman immediately was hit with the cold air of his absence, and involuntarily stepped forward. And once they parted, he saw the special spot was no longer there.

"I am sorry." He breathed out what had already been expressed.

"I accept your apology." She offered a slight smile. "I… I understand why I had to go back. Or rather, why you had to send me away."

She averted her gaze to the ground and allowed her hands to rest on his shoulders.

"I am quite pleased that you have moved on from the past. At least, the negative aspects of it."

"Time forces one to do so." He tucked one of many stray strands of hair behind her ear. "But… What has become of Mr-"

"Let us not speak of him. Not now." She met his eyes again, and he caught the sorrow in hers. He dropped the matter, already knowing the answer to his incomplete question.

"Do you love me?" She barely uttered the words. And her complete question earned her a displeased growl from him.

"What a silly question for you to ask."

He claimed her lips as his own once again. And this time, she was the first to part for she was still trying to catch her breath.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"It is. But I… I've tried to deny it for so many years. But what I've never understood was why you would care for someone like me." Before she could express her indigition and disagreement, he continued his monologue of self deprecation.

"I was almost certain you would have forgotten me by now. After all, it would have been quite simple for you to catch any man you fancied, and you deserve the absolute best. I am quite sure that I'm not exactly what you would call a "suitable" suitor, for as you know I am the unsavory character mother's warn their children of and not to mention-"

"Hush now. Enough!" She placed her hand on his mouth to silence him, and began to chide him as if he was a little schoolboy.

"No more of this self-pity and no more of this talk of nonsense. And don't you dare question my decisions! I am a woman, and I am quite certain that I know what I want. If I wanted some boring proper gentleman, I would've been married and had several children by now. But as you can see, I've come right back here to Neverland."

Her expression softened, and so did her voice.

"I've come back to where I rightfully belong."

A short spell of silence filled the air. During the short period, she slowly reached out for his maimed arm and grabbed hold of it and did not let go. "And to answer your question… You always found me right when the night seemed terribly dark. It might have not been such an important thing to you… But I shall have you know that I had never been found before by anyone. No one had ever bothered looking for me."She paused, and continued when he stayed silent.

"And deep down, I've always known that you were just as lost as I was."

"Me? Lost?" He finally spoke up again in a quiet voice, and let out a half-hearted chuckle. "What an absurd notion... I am never lost... I have an excellent sense of direction."

"Hush, hush, you were lost. And so this time, I thought I would look for you. And voila! I have finally found you. And now, we are both unlost!" She grinned, before bringing his disfigured stump up to her lips and planting a small peck on the very top. And the look in his eyes was enough for her to know that the gesture moved him more than he would ever admit.

"Well then... If you'll have me, I am yours."

"Hm." She scrunched her eyebrows in mock concentration. "Well… You did just throw me back to London without even saying goodbye..."

Despite her speaking in a teasing tone, a pang of guilt pierced his conscience. And it must've shown on his face, for Clara quickly blurted her next words.

"But I've decided to keep you anyways."

He laughed.

"Well, then I promise you that you'll never have to worry about losing me again then." With that, he intertwined his fingers into hers.

"Never is an awfully long time."

And they smiled at one another, before saying nothing more.

In silence, they watched as the sun began emerging from its hiding place behind the gray clouds. Far off in the distance, songbirds within the forest began to rouse from their slumber. Several fairies crept out from the leaves, and other small life forms began to wake from their long hibernation.

And even though it was still December, the flowers began to bloom.


End file.
